I was on my way to lunch when the pink wave spilled from the Diamond.
At first I thought it was some kind of leak. Vibrant sea water pouring from somewhere far away. But when the torrent hit the sluice pits the stream of colour broke down into small rosy pebbles. Spindly legs emerged from each one. Any that fell on their back righted themselves with flicks of matchstick limbs.
They soon overwhelmed the pits, and landed with a clatter onto the paths around the tanks. A visitor screamed when one ran between their legs.
Link had warned us about the risk of a flood.
‘Even after all these years, some of the cycles of the Diamonds are a mystery,’ he said. ‘Sometimes they get excited. Sometimes the nets are not enough. When that happens, make sure you clean up fast.'
Now the flood was here, we had no time to even raise our hands before they got underneath benches, and hid in the shadows of a vending bear. Something about the way they scuttled sent me back to day one of working here. I have cleaned the teeth of the eels in 457, but one of these new pink spheres crawling over my trainer was enough to make me close to vomiting.
Link had been giving a short lecture about the horned fish of 671 when the wave started. I knew his joke about unicorns not being able to swim off by heart. I think Nate told him of the invasion. He needed less than a minute to snatch a bucket of water, and a broom, but by that point the floor was a living mass that clattered and squirmed.
Not sure what his plan was if Deni had not arrived. Perhaps just a mad sweeping session. But Deni waded into the moving river, and scooped up our new arrivals in their silver palms. They did not flinch even when the walking rocks clambered over their fingers and found a home up their sleeves, turning the fabric into wiggling cotton tunnels.
One got wrapped up in their silver hair. Others landed in the hood of their jumper. All the while Deni puffed on a menthol cigarette, a pink and silver snowstorm.
‘Is this….what it means…to be tickled?’ They said.
When the bucket filled, Link fetched another. For the rest of the day our new arrivals emerged from behind Deni’s belt, or out of their socks. Each time they walked over to a bucket of water, and plonked them in.
The animals are in 1618 now. An expanse of living peppercorns next to The Butter Mouse. She calms me down with her graceful swimming.
It could be that the inhabitants share a home millions of miles away, or were born in different dimensions, impossible to touch. And yet is there still a relationship between the two tanks?
There is a connection between me and the Butter Mouse at least. I am sure of it. I put my hand on the glass, and she swims over, turning the glass a place yellow.
Will I be able to let go in the end?
Clip: This one blew my mind. Someone who looks like me! A picture, but they must exist. Did someone travel through? Or is there another place like ours?