A goldfish floats, belly up in the toilet.

He looks down at his daughter, her pink sausage fingers clutching the rim of the white seat. She looks up at him with large luminous blue eyes. Her eyes are serious. Concerned.
“Now we have to say some words… OK?”
Lily nods quietly.
“Heavenly Father, please watch over Henry the Fish. He was a good fish.”
He pauses, momentarily trying to think of something nice to say about Henry. He decides to improvise.
“He always did his chores on time, ate his vegetables, and didn’t watch TV until after he finished his homework.”
He pauses and ruffles Lily’s curled hair, “Do you have anything to say, Pumpkin?”
Lily slowly shakes her head no.
“OK, then… Rest in Peace, Henry.”
He depresses the handle. The fish solemnly swirls – spirals – and then disappears forever.

Lily watches Henry pass, before looking back up at her father in confusion.
“Where did he go?”
“Heaven, dear.”
Her face lights up, “With Mommy?”
He lifts her up, and buries his face in her soft curls.