Tammy the goldfish

I made it the way I remember gold fishes from my grandfather’s place—bright ping pong balls bobbing up and down in the water.

I joined the colourful remnants to form a soft yet solid ball, and on it I planted tiny wire protrusions.

Her fins are small relative her body, to friends her age, or any fish that survives the wild.

So, she paddles harder, faster.

She doesn’t stop.

I call her Tammy.