Continuation of 'serrusalmus'

Marjorie then decides to try to wake up Mick. She gently takes hold of his bluish shining bone and intensely observes the light from the bright and glowing fish tank that is cast upon it. She's enthralled; her fingertips are lightly touching the exposed knuckles on Mick's hand, nearly caressing them. The skeletal limb would definitely make a great ornament in Russ's tank, no doubt...

She's quietly humming, dipping a custard cream into her tea. She gazes at Russ, he's looking hungry, poor boy, he must be starving.

She chucks a biscuit into the tank. Russ rapidly swims against it, sniffs it and leaves it to dissolve.

Mick is fast asleep, still unconscious. Marjorie rubs her hand against his wounded wrist, trying to get a grip on the bone. She grabs it, bends it and it snaps, what a satisfying crunch, crispy and brittle. Mick abruptly opens his eyes and screams in pain. He stares at his bleeding wrist, then at the bones in Marjorie's arms and at the piranha in the tank. He backs away, terrified, and leans against the glass wall. 'I bear no grudge towards you now', Marjorie whispers.

Swiftly, he's plummeting out of sight, surrounded by bits of glass. Doomed angel.