When he came out of the hospital gates he just stood there for a good long while and breathed. Cars went past and their smoke filled the air. An ambulance drove by with red lights flashing. A taxi dawdled at the curb, letting out two elderly visitors who paid and disappeared into the gates and the taxi took off. He remembered other, better, days, a walk in the park with the boy when the sun was shining. The sun always seemed to shine, in those days. The boy had held his hand and he said, Daddy, Daddy, a butterfly! and the man nodded, not really paying attention, and he wished now that he’d paid so much more attention, that he’d been fully present for every single, fleeting, precious moment.

We’re going to need to run more tests. The grey light pressing against the smoked glass windows. The whisper of nurses’ shoes on the linoleum floor. Elevators pinging softly. He took a gulp of air and crossed the road to the shop on the corner and bought another fifth. The liquid burned his lips. A fire down his throat. Fog rising in his mind, he needed it like a blanket. He staggered home through dark deserted streets. Traffic lights winked green and red, green and red.

The city like a checkers board with squares of light and dark, the shadows whispering. Near his apartment he saw a group of homeless folk standing in a huddle looking at something on the ground. They seemed transfixed. He pushed near to see what it was. Some were holding bottles in brown paper bags just as he did. He pushed between two figures, a slight man with long curly sidelocks and a girl with wide shoulders and short cropped hair dyed with purple stripes. They made way for him. Their attention was focused downwards. He followed their gaze to the open drain.

A giant carp was lying in the gutter.

How the fish got there was a question none of the observers felt inclined to ask. It just was. It was huge, and the man vaguely remembered reading once how carp were near immortal, that they could die of violence or disease but not of old age.

The fish was still alive. Its glassy eyes stared up at the onlookers and its tail beat against the shallow running water and its gills opened and closed. It was just stranded there. The man felt somehow bad for the fish and yet the creature was too alien to inspire real sympathy. It was just there.

Hey, man, the guy next to him with the long sidelocks said, can you spare some change.

He reached in his pocket, brought out a handful of coins. He handed them over.

Thanks, man.

The fish flopped in the open drain.

Hey, I know you, the guy with the sidelocks said. I’ve seen you, man, here and in that other place.

I don’t know what you mean.