The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living

No one suspected that the shark had put himself in the box. Not only chosen the box, not only swum into it in careful, back-and-forth motions like a car squeezing into a too-tight parking space, but constructed the box itself, designing the enclosure with its supposedly primitive mind meant only to think about the sweetness of thrashing fish meat; somehow–with gesticulation of fin and careful clenching of jaw muscles, it riveted the iron beams holding the plexiglass.

And now, it holds still not through the effects of any formaldehyde emulsion, but through its own discipline, through commitment to its art.

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