Master of none

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Freddy the Fish glanced at the folded newspaper beside him on the bench. A little one-column headline caught his eye:

MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS FROM OUTER SPACE

"Probably from Cygnus," he said.

Freddy mashed a peanut, popped the meat into his mouth, and tossed the shell to the curb in front of his bench. He munched and idly watched two sparrows arguing over the discarded delicacy; the victor flitted to the head of a statue, let go a triumphant dropping onto the marble nose, and hopped to a nearby branch.

"Serves him right," Freddy said. He yawned and rubbed the stubble on his chin. Not yet long enough for scissors, he decided. He pulled his feet up on the bench, twisting in an effort to get comfortable. The sun was in his eyes, so he reclaimed the discarded newspaper and spread it over his face. His eyes momentarily focused on MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS FROM OUTER SPACE, right over his nose.

"Sure, Cygnus," he muttered, and closed his eyes and dropped off to sleep.

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