Dawn drives the darkness away. A palette of pastels paint the ocean in rose, lavender, and tangerine. Underneath streaks of broken seaweed, a school of tuna wiggle out of their rocky home, scales sparkling.

As the fish explore coral after coral, one falls behind. He rushes to the surface, jumps, and embraces the morning breeze skirting against his scales. Splashing back down into the saltwater, transparent droplets dance around him, and he thinks “Almost.”\

“Hey, Blue! Are you still trying to fly?” His brother turns and laughs. “What are you even doing? You’re a fish.” 

“Maybe…” Blue responds, gazing toward clouds. 

A wobbly dark speck appears and grows against the clouds, hurtling downwards with unmistakable feathered wings and an orange beak. A seagull. Blue freezes; his eyes amplifying in horror. 

The bird crashes into a wave, spears the minnow next to Blue in the eye, then resurfaces and gobbles its meal whole. Blue runs in confusion. More seagulls dive into the ocean like a raining shower of bombs, their wings spread wide like fighter planes, their limbs silhouetted by the rising sun. Trails of smoke-like bubbles follow their descent. Beaks bloody, they stab at fish in the crimson chaos and take them up towards the unbreathable atmosphere like reapers from the underworld. Captured fish thrash and shudder as they take their final breath. Blue and his family swim and swim for their lives, darting deeper and away from the first rays of the day. 

Blue shivers, coldness seeping into his bones. Waving seaweed casts sinister shadows, occasionally rubbing against his scales. A growl rumbles from below. Pausing, Blue turns around. A mouth of ivory-white teeth opens – a seal. Blue dodges, but the monster snatches the tail of his brother and the head of his cousin. The pack of fish shatters, the seal chasing and chomping behind. Scaly bodies spasm down into the abyss below. Blood disperses. 

With nowhere to go, Blue bolts up and up until finally he touches the surface. 

Aloft the horizon, the morning sun lights fluffy clouds into flames. All alone now, Blue sees a sleek white hull slicing through the water with a faint tune whistling from onboard. He creeps towards the humming engines and sneaks a peek at the crew. Men in orange overalls laugh, streams of smoke drifting from their glowing red cigarettes. 

A short man with a potbelly and a chunky beard tosses his hot stub overboard. His cigar fizzles, the charcoal floating back up to the surface. He adjusts his greasy, olive green bucket hat with gloved-hands and casts something– 

A net.

Before Blue can react, the metal rope plunges. He sprints. He flails. He closes his eyes and hopes that he’s outrunning the net’s embrace. But he doesn’t. He can’t. Panic surges through his little pounding heart as he struggles against the rope biting into his scales, each thrash tangling him further. He opens his mouth, and yells for help, but his cry is silent. 

The net goes up; Blue sinks; the rope stabs him even more. 

Blue tries to breathe. His lungs scream for water as he’s strangled by pure oxygen. Gills gasping, Blue’s eyes widen. He sees swaying seaweed and water sloshing over the white sand far away. Blue goes higher. He sees the wispy clouds, the white feathered seagulls, the full golden sun. Blue goes even higher. He sees his family, their swishing fins, their silver scales, their sparkling eyes. He sees it all from the sky, a sky so blue it reminds him of the ocean. His heart stops, his eyes empty. 

Blue has flown. 

Dawn ends.