Over his head hung that goddamn fish. Max was pretty artistic I have to admit. It's always endearing to imagine an alpha male starfish carefully studying carp in the lake, sketching it out and then carving a printing block - his normally animated face still like the lake in sincere concentration. Penny told me she found the print in a bin at the end of the year. I look at the fish now, still a vibrant blue behind the glass that it's now framed in. I reckon it's the only real part of Max any girl got and he didn't even mean to give it.
Penny makes me promise not to tell Max or anyone else really. I tell her that I'll only tell anyone else if I write it in a book. She laughs, looks at me and stops laughing very suddenly. Sorry Penny. And Max, your fish is doing well.
It's getting quite dark now and I have a flight to America the next morning. I tell Penny that my underwear has probably decomposed at this point and I think I'd better clean up before flying off. America is really far, you know and I hadn't been back since college. She runs out of the room and comes back and shoves three muesli bars and an apple into my hands. I say that thanks but I can probably get some food on the plane. She says that it's my food for getting back to the flat, I was two hours away at least.