Write a story about some fish

There are these two young fish swimming along, and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says, "Morning, boys, how's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes, "What the hell is water?"

damn....

really makes you think

~Goldfish Kek~

"Hey."
"Hi-hello!"
"What's up."
"Hi!"
"Oh, hello!"
"How are you?"
"Fine."
"Hello!"
"Hi."
"Hey."

Someone just write an absurdist short story about a goldfish that has a long term memory, I'm too lazy to do it

There was a goldfish that had long term memory,he did not have friends,because everyone forgot about him,even his family,but he was friendly with everyone.
Obviously he fell a bit lonely an sad,but he doesnt give up like the fucking absurdists or the nihilistics and he doesnt fell superior of the other fishes for his long term memory,and doesnt take advantage of the other fishes because he knows that he did nothing for obtain it.
Rather he educate and help the other fishes,and bit by bit the fishes gain long term memory,and he encourages education until every fish was as intelligent as him,the fishes then build an awesome,prosper and educated civilisation,where there was not great fishes,only peace.

The end.

For sale: Fish shoes.
Never worn.

better than the original by far.

Consider the goldfish, as it swims in a circle, in a décored glass bowl.
Chasing itself in cyprinidae delusion, delighting in mythic three-second indulgentia, hath it hopes? Dreams? Desire beyond the brute carnālis?
Feed drizzling down sky aquatic, doeth it ponder the hand that nutritio giveth?
For a freshwater'd lake doeth it inherently yearneth?
Krisis absurde, avoided by habitat squared.

Kek, I read that as Never "worm".

For fish: baby shoes.
Never worn.

One day, there were fifteen little fish all swimming round together, blowing bubbles, and doing fish stuff like that.
The next day, there were seven little fish, and they were all swimming round together, blowing bubbles, and doing fish stuff like that, but also worrying about Gary's sudden weight problem.

For sale: alligator boots.
Butt ugly.

Once upon a time, a glubbity-glub fish glubbed glubbaty glubs at a bad old glab. Glab gabbed glabbings glubbitty-glub glabb'd not to gab., but bad gabbity glab-glub glabbed not at glub's gag, and filled the waters with not gags but a stinky doucherish glubbity bag.

Fish glubbity-glub glabbed not his glabbity-bag, and knowing better than to fight, fled away from glabbity glag.

you've been listening to too much stanley unwin

Boot sale: butt alligator, ugly shoes.

I really enjoyed that triology but I never understood how Kek got his long term memory between books two and three? Good character development anyway.

Never heard: until now.
Funny man

Eulogy for a prisoner: A life inside a bowl, a death inside a pipe. What was once a boys prize is now disgust in his eyes.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=6RRv35Ig2mg

"My, my. It seems like destiny is never left to chance," he said with a sardonic smile.

"There has never been a fish of your.... kind, not in our neighborhood. The Queensland Reefs houses only the elite. Each of us carefully selected based on our income- that is the steady flow of caviar being produced."

"Do not take it personally, Goldie," he said while trying to repress a chuckle. "This is an affluent neighborhood, meaning you will be unable to keep up with our lifestyle."

"See that reef at the cul-de-sac? That belongs to me. Perhaps, I can find suitable work for you. Is that not that why you are here?"

"I have taken a liking to you, Goldie. I will let you oversee one of my Japanese Gardens, making sure to pluck any seaweed that sprouts."

"Now, now. I have an important business conference to attend. Farewell," he vanished almost instantaneously."

If the caviar's flowing into the fish, it should be a seahorse.

I just found that picture on Google and thought he looked very smug.

this is a real story called the Rainbow Fish - read it when I was a kid, loved it

Commie

It is strange, but the sole carp living in the pond close to the dacha of General Pantalikin, fell in love up to his ears with his daughter, Sonia Mamochkina. By the way, what is strange about this? Lermontov’s demon fell in love with Tamara, and the swan with Leda, and really, doesn’t it happen that chancellery clerks fall in love with their bosses’ daughters? Every morning Sonia Mamochkina arrived with her aunt to bathe. The love-struck carp swam right up to the bank and observed. Due to the close proximity of the Krandel Sons foundry, the water in the pond long ago had turned brown, but nonetheless, the carp could see everything. He saw how white clouds and birds hung in the light blue sky, how the ladies exposed themselves, how, due to the bushes on the bank, young people looked at them, how the fat aunt, before she went into the water, sat for about five minutes on a stone, and, stroking herself complacently, said: “How did I come to resemble such an elephant? Even looking is frightful.” Having removed her undergarments, Sonia threw herself into the water with a squeal, swam around, shaking from the cold, and the carp, there on the spot, swam up to her and began to greedily kiss her toes, shoulders, neck…

Having swum, the summer vacationers went home to drink tea with sweet rolls, and the carp swam alone in the enormous pond and thought:

“Of course, the chances of reciprocity don’t even come into the question. Could she, such a beauty, fall in love with me, a carp? No, a thousand times no! Don’t delude yourself with fantasies, despicable fish! There’s only one fate left to you—death! But how to die? There are no revolvers or phosphorous matches in the pond. For our brother, for carps, only one death is possible—to fall to a pike. But where to find a pike? If there was a pike in the pond at one time, it expired of boredom. Oh, woe is me!”

And, thinking about death, the young pessimist buried himself in the pond slime and wrote in his diary…

One day towards evening Sonia and her aunt sat fishing on the bank of the pond. The carp swam close to their bobbers and didn’t tear his eyes from the beloved girl. Suddenly, an idea crossed his mind in a flash.

“I’ll die at her hands!” he thought, and happily started to wiggle his fins. “Oh, that will be a wonderful, sweet death.”

And, full of decisiveness, only having turned a little pale, he swam to Sonia’s hook and took it in his mouth.

“Sonia, you’ve got a bite!” screeched the aunt, “Dearie, you’ve got a bite!”

“--Oh, oh,”

Sonia jumped up and lurched back with all of her strength. Something golden crossed into the air and slapped into the water, leaving a circle after itself.

“Got away!” shrieked both vacationers, having turned pale. “Got away! Oh dear!”

They looked at the hook and saw a fish lip. –“Oh, dear, you didn’t have to tug so hard. Now the poor fish is left without lips…”

Having gotten off the hook, my hero was stunned and for a long time didn’t understand what was wrong; afterwards, coming to, he moaned

-- “Alive again! Again! Oh, trick of fate!”

Then having noticed that he didn’t have his lower jaw, the carp turned pale and wildly laughed…. He went mad.

But I’m afraid it looks strange that I want to occupy the attention of a serious reader with the fate of such a disposable and uninteresting creature as a carp. Well, what’s strange here? Ladies describe gudgeons and snails which aren’t of any use to anyone in thick magazines. And I am imitating the ladies. It might even be that I am a lady myself and am only hiding behind a male pseudonym.

And so, the carp lost his mind. The unhappy one still lives to this day. Carps in general love to be baked in sour cream; my hero now loves any death. Sonia Mamochkina married the owner of an apothecary shop, and the aunt went to Lipetsk to live with a married sister. There is nothing strange in this, because the married sister has six children and all children love an aunt.

But, to continue. The engineer Krisin works as the director at the Krandel Sons foundry. He has a nephew Ivan, who, as is known, writes verses and eagerly publishes them in magazines and newspapers. One sultry day at noon, the young poet, walking past the pond, fancied a swim. He changed and began to climb into the pond. The mad carp took him for Sonia Mamochkina, swam up to him, and gently kissed him on the back. This kiss had the most disastrous results: the carp infected the poet with pessimism. Not observing anything, the poet got out of the water and, wildly laughing, set off for home. After a few days he went to St. Petersburg; having visited the editors there, he infected all poets with pessimism, and from that time on, our poets began to write gloomy, cheerless verses.

There was a carp. It was stupid and useless and if it didn't get up the waterfall it would die. There was no reason to think it would get up the waterfall, but it did, and became a dragon. But the other dragons didn't like the former carp, saying it was guilty of appropriating draconic identity, and that its experiences as a carp could never equip it to understand and show solidarity with dragonkind. Meanwhile, all of the former carp's fellow carp friends had died, because they couldn't get up the waterfall. Alienated from all society, the lonely dragon retreated to the mountains, where he collected gold just to soothe himself with something. One day, a knight appeared. Leveling his lance, he charged on his noble steed towards the dragon, who dodged out of the way.

"Wait!" said the dragon "Why are you doing this?"

"You are a foul wyrm, a scourge to the community, and must be destroyed!"

"But I've never hurt anybody!"

"Your cunning tongue will get you nowhere, serpent. If you've hurt nobody, where did your gold come from?"

"But I can breathe fire, and have tremendous claws for digging. I can make as much gold as I like!"

But the knight was unpersuaded "And what business does an animal have with gold that is intended for men? You deprive men in either case just by existing! And so you shall die!"

And so the dragon was slain. But the knight, feeling guilty, took the dragon as his symbol. He kept his memory, in a way, and became the retainer of the dragon's whole existence; but when he told his story, the dragon was a monster, and all the substance of his life was omitted.

The end.

One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a fish. Then he suffocated.

>be fish
>be bored of being in a shitty water in a pet store.
>be waiting for a human to save you.
>a young English man appeared, the bell on the door rung.
>wiggle your tail.
>man sees you through the tank.
>hoping that you have found a owner.
>owner actually buys you.
>for a moment of suffocation from packed air you were finally released in a beautiful huge tank.
>a strange feeling struck.
>a massive body cross behind you.
>Tfw you realised you weren't bought here as a pet but as a meal to a another big fish.

We got Goldie for my 6th birthday and added her to the family tank. She seemed to get along with the other aquatic residents. There was Jerry the janitor fish, my father's current fish; Angelie, my mom's angelfish; and Stenny, an old snail which my brother added to the collection last year's Christmas. They would all rise to the top of the aquarium during dinner, fed only once per 24 hours.

A week after Goldie's arrival, we woke up to her with her tail torn and her fins falling apart. The following day it died; even when we isolated her into a smaller tank. My father thought that I should get a new fish that would be able to hold its own in the aquarium.

I did some research and saw the perfect fish. The following morning I placed an order with my Visa Debit and woke up early to wait for the Amazon 24-hour drone to arrive. I asked the delivery boy to help me quietly load the fish for an extra $5.
When they woke, they aquarium was red; I ordered a fresh water Piranha and left everyone dead. Only the snail lived.

Looking back on it now we had a laugh. "Poor fishes", my father said in his deathbed. "We love and care for them, yet they die anyway".

They took her.
I didn't ask anyone for anything different, but I doubt it was my involvement. She was no fish. I was your fish.

>old fish wiggles up to qt teen fish
>ayy lmao this is water
>nothing personnel, sluts
>swims away

"A Story about Some Fish"

It was like that, except bigger.

This story touched me on a personal level.

one day the boy fish had sexual relations with the girl fish and noboday cared because consent was implied and everyboday was happy together.

Bump for vague narcissistic hopes

ONCE UPON A TIME A FISH THOUGHT DUDE INFINITE JEST LMAO

I don't have a story, but I do have a joke in Spanish.

¿Qué hace el pez?

Nada