I didn’t touch a bit of protein for two days so that it took thirty seconds for redness to return after I squeezed my finger. At two in the morning I used my shaking hands to open the refrigerator and I removed the small fishbowl. It was of clear glass, containing red stones filled to one third and a single upright piece of bright green plastic seaweed. Scooping Edward from his tank, I whispered, “sorry” into his… ear, and plunked him into the bowl. I dressed heavily and sat down in the snow outside and plunged my hand into the bowl. Edward excitedly swam in circles and I emitted a low whine - the water was freezing. But that was the point. After only a minute, my skin was a ghostly white; in pain I was grinding my teeth and shuffling my boots against the ground. Edward was still gliding around - what vitality! - but I kept the bowl and my hand still. As my fingertips darkened I felt a thin layer of frost hugging my wrist, and there was no longer any pain below the water level. Edward became motionless, and hovered in the center of the bowl below the ice, which was slowly descending upon him.