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The Jealous Fish
I stare through the glass of my bowl, watching the boy who took care of as long as I remember. Well, he used to.
He got this new book and started reading it and the sessions of reading would gradually get longer each day, he soon stopped paying attention to me. I despise that book for replacing me.
How could a book be more interesting than me? I wonder enviously.
I watch him reading that book with so much more passion compared to when he used to spend time with me. I wish I could relive those days when he used to spend hours with me, but now, it's like this book is his new favorite pet.
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This piece was made with a touch of reality.