I took a sample of the aquarium water in to the fish store today, where they tested it and pronounced it just fine. So, Morris did not perish of bad water.
(And they asked how everyone else in the tank looks, and I said they look fine, but Morris looked fine until he didn’t, so how do I know?)
The aquarium-store lady said maybe Beatrice got tired of being harassed, and whacked him. Actually, she didn’t say it quite like that, but that was the gist of it.
Later I told both Mark and My Dear Miss Q about it, in separate phone calls, and they both said the identical thing: “Beatrice poisoned him!”
So, Beatrice, I’m watching you. Don’t get cocky. Just cause you haven’t gotten hauled in yet doesn’t mean you’re not a suspect.
Everybody Knows.
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I had strange and unpleasant dreams last night, including one where I’d hired an extremely inappropriate person to be my literary agent. Said person began acting as this person does in real life, and I was thinking, What have I done? This isn’t making anything better! Having no agent at all would be better than having this person as my agent!
Then I woke up way too early and went to work.