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I remember walking in on my best friend lying face first in the water. The air in the room dissipated so much so that my bones had no crutches to lean against. I fell to the floor sobbing. We had been roommates for years and I wasn't ready to handle the death of my best friend. We both kept to ourselves in solitude, but we always had each other to look forward to seeing each day. I rolled joints and puffed clouds, he swam circles and blew bubbles. I poked at his body hoping there would be a slight movement but there was none. How could this happen? I lost the one being that could understand the torments of being isolated and lonely, and now he was gone. I proceeded to wrap his body in toilet paper. I wasn't going to flush him like the others, a burial was more adequate. After all, his name was Willy and he was the best goddamn goldfish a man could have.
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