A Few Lines Written While Drowning

There were always 4 or 5 things she couldn’t let into the house alive. He looked out from the window of the aquarium across the street. There was a decent chance he might reach someone with a good blast of a rifle. Instead, he was forced, with one fish, to see into the very depths of her blue eyes. He was playing the game to win on the tip of her tongue. He’d had enough of defeat, but he was still standing, right out in the open under the nearest streetlamp, surprised as anyone, white as a pelican.