there was a fish named Alex

he belonged to a girl named Milan, living in San Francisco who bought the fish at the request of her roommate. her sister Paris, who wished his name had been Sergio or Barnaby, frequently came over to Milan’s place where the three grew fond of each other, particularly Alex.
soon the winter break was upon the college students, and Alex was taken home, home being across the Bay Bridge. everyday he grew, bigger and bigger, almost too big for his small fishbowl which Milan and Paris disliked cleaning. and he got bigger and bigger, so his size demanded he be placed in a huge tupperware where he could see all around him. gradually this enclosure included colorful stones and a rock archway from his old place.
then Paris took a leave of absence from school, and remained at home to tend to Alex while Milan returned to the City.
he grew bigger. Paris knew, Milan knew, and Alex knew. in his earlier days he would constantly swim over and under, back and forth, through the rock archway. he even slept in it most nights. one time he nearly got stuck swimming through the tunnel. now he hardly goes near the tunnel at all.