The day Felix's goldfish died was also the day his best friend came back from holiday and also the day he was supposed to go to his cousin's birthday party.
This was, he decided, a bit much.
He found out about the goldfish first, at seven in the morning. His goldfish was called Captain Bubbles, and he had been Felix's for two years, which is a long time in goldfish terms. Felix looked at the small still fish for a long moment and felt something heavy and quiet settle in his chest.
Then his mum called from downstairs: "Finn's back from his holiday! He called — he wants to come over this afternoon!"
And Felix felt something light and jumpy arrive in his chest, right next to the heavy quiet thing. Both at the same time. It felt very crowded in there.
Then his dad said: "Don't forget you've got Rosa's birthday party at two o'clock. You should probably decide what to wear."
Something complicated was added to the collection. Felix wasn't sure what to call this one. Something like being pulled in three directions at once.
He went outside and sat under the apple tree in the garden. The apple tree was his thinking spot. He sat on the grass and put his back against the bark and breathed.
"There are too many feelings," he said to no one.
His grandmother, who was visiting, came outside with a cup of tea and sat down next to him. She didn't say anything at first. She just sat.
Then she said: "The goldfish?"
"Yes," said Felix. "And Finn coming back. And Rosa's party."
"That's a lot at once," said Grandma.
"They all want to be felt at the same time," Felix said. "How do you do that?"
Grandma thought about this. She was good at thinking before answering. "I think you don't," she said finally. "I think you just let them queue. Like people at the post office."
Felix thought about the queue at the post office, which was always long and slightly annoying but always moved. "So I'm sad about Captain Bubbles right now?" he said.
"Are you?"
"Yes."
"Then be sad," she said. "The excited-about-Finn feeling will wait. It's good at waiting — excited feelings usually are."
Felix sat and let himself be sad about Captain Bubbles for a while. It was a soft kind of sad, which surprised him — not sharp, just heavy. He thought about the way the goldfish caught the light. He let that matter.
After a while, the heavy feeling got a little lighter. Not gone, but smaller. Room in the queue moved forward.
He went to Rosa's party. He told Finn about Captain Bubbles, and Finn listened properly, which is one of the things that makes someone a best friend. He ate cake. He laughed at something three times.
That night, getting into bed, Felix checked to see what was left in the feeling queue. Mostly a nice tiredness, and something warm and ordinary that he thought might be called contentment, which was a word his teacher had used once.
One at a time, he thought. They all get their turn.
He fell asleep under the stars that blinked through his window, and for the first time all day, his chest felt exactly the right size.
