|When I was four, I went on a cruise with my brother to Bermuda.
My brother was old. He was twenty-four.
One day, on the cruise, we were on the top deck.
"Where are my parents?" I said to my brother. "I'm supposed to have one mom and one dad? Mommy and Daddy?"
He stared at me for a very long time. He was thinking, I could tell.
Then he picked me up and threw me into the ocean.
I didn't scream. I thought that it must've been something reasonable and pragmatic, to be thrown off of a cruise ship.
I was raised by dolphins.
Fifteen years later, I found my brother. This was in America. I found him and I punched him in the face so hard that he went immediately blind.
There wasn't any blood. But the blindness was irreversible and it happened instantly.
I stayed around to see what he'd do.
"Is this even fair?" he said. "You were raised by dolphins, but now I can't even move freely through this world where colors and shapes and facial expressions are so important, crucial, really."
"I liked being raised by dolphins," I said.
I stayed around some more. I wanted him to say, "Things are going to be okay. People love you." I wanted him to say the names of these people, and I wanted that never to end.
But he didn't say anything. He was moving his hands in front of him, feeling for things.
"Hey," I said. "I liked being raised by dolphins."
He came toward me, his arms out in front.
I felt so sad then suddenly and felt I was going to cry. Things felt wrong. Everything was wrong. I moved toward him and we embraced.
Then he started strangling me. I reached behind me and picked up a knife that was lying there on a table and I stabbed him in the center of his heart.
I took his corpse and dove into the ocean. Because of being raised by dolphins, I could breathe underwater and also could dive really deep without rupturing my lungs.
So I dove to the very bottom of the Pacific Ocean and stuffed my brother's corpse in a crevice in the Marianas Trench.
I stayed there and looked at his corpse.
It slowly became unjammed, and then floated up. A shark came by and ate it.
"Shark," I said. "Eat me." I spoke in a language the dolphins had taught me. "I know you hear me, shark. Hey!"
I swam at it, but it wouldn't eat me. I pushed myself at its mouth.
It was very annoyed at me, but it kept its mouth shut very tight and kept
turning away. But I wasn't going to give up. I held on tight
to its mouth and shoved my fingers in. I felt some teeth. "Hey,
shark," I said. "I'm holding on for the rest of my life and you'll
have to open up some day."
[Forever after at http://eyeshot.net/taoshark.html]
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