When I’m feeling down, I go for nighttime swims with the aquarium turtles. I was hired as a security guard because people keep trying to steal our very expensive penguins. In my opinion, the sea turtles are the real prize. They swim in happy little circles when they see me coming.

Our most sought-after penguin is named Edwin. He can spin on his head and even beatbox. So far, there have been seven attempts to abduct him, and I stopped all but one of them. Luckily, the penguin who was taken wasn’t actually Edwin, but his less talented decoy, Rocco. The resemblance is uncanny.

Last night, one of the sea turtles rested his head on my shoulder and nibbled me with his beak. I offered him a cigarette, but he told me he’d been trying to quit. 

“More power to you,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about quitting myself.”

We bobbed up and down in the turquoise water, and even though only one of us had a shell, I swear it was like we’d hatched from the same egg.

This story is co-featured on the Emerson Review, a Boston-based literary magazine dedicated to publishing diverse and compelling works of fiction, poetry, and nonfiction.