The Old Fish Mufasa

Things are better for Laura
now that Mufasa is living in the lounge.

She still feeds him several pellets a day,
too many,
according to the instructions.
They, the instructions being they,
also say
that over-eating
causes death
in Mufasa-fish.

She might be spiteful.

Such a perverted way to take a life --
She thinks she may remember hearing
once, at a reunion on her mother's side
or was it a dinner with a cousin
come to visit,
that her family
descended from an undocumented
bastard child,
the product of a drunken Egdar Allen Poe.
And now,
as she feeds Mufasa to death -- smiling and cooing at him,
she knows that it must be true.
They say that ancestry
starts to shine through at this age,
don't they?

        %%%%

You have to recognize,                  
she tells herself,
when a relationships is simply
detrimental
to you and your mental health.
Who knows,
if she had not removed him from her room,
he may have become physically abusive as well.
Maybe he was hiding shark's teeth
in that tiny sucking
circle mouth,
so small
that they could pierce human skin without ever triggering a nerve
to tell the brain to send a message saying,
"Pain! Pain in the finger that Mufasa is secretly biting!"
His biting would of course be
disguised as kisses.
And his microscopic shark teeth,
laced with poison,
would easily take her innocent finger
victim!
So unassuming,
so ready to believe in love!
"What a tragedy,"
they would say at the funeral.
And after the tear streaked faces
empty the church,
her mother would rush home
to find that damned Mufasa
and fry him to a crisp!
seasoning him with her tears.

Furthermore,
you have to know
how to protect yourself.
(And here she starts to feel quite proud --
her chest might puff out slightly, but they don't notice --
proud of how much better she is feeling
now that Mufasa,
the betta-fish,
is no longer angry-eyeing her back
as she types on her keyboard
or cuts with her scissors
or draws with her pencils.)
How to skillfully defuse the aggressor.
In this case,
I simply removed him,
she tells her imaginary patients,
in for their afternoon group counseling session.
They take note of it
on their lined yellow notepads.
"How to defuse aggressor:
      *remove"

She smiles at them
and they nod and smile back,
acknowledging her great wisdom,
knowing that they got every penny's worth
of the money that they paid
to see the great
Laura Ellen Poe.
No! that won't do as a doctor's name,
"Bad for business, I'm afraid"
business Laura tells the doctor.

She leans back in her chair,
wondering about good doctor names.
They must get more business!
she concludes.
And someone must have studied this.
She swivels to face her laptop,
where the answer to everything
waits to be found.
But before she has figured out how to fill the Google box
for this particular search,
she smiles, realizing that she is finally free
to play again.
Who needs friends like Mufasa anyway?

Yes things are better for Laura
now that Mufasa is living in the lounge.