"I don't know why we are here, but I'm pretty sure that it is not in order to enjoy ourselves." Ludwig Wittgenstein

Friday, November 27, 2009

Fish Dreaming

The small aquarium in Lola’s living room shone like a dazzling TV screen that inadvertently had been left on in the middle of the otherwise unlit night. The Yellow Damsels and Emperor Angel Fish darted about, like colorful bolts of lightning under the uninterrupted light. The air filter hummed unerringly.

Lola, shuffled through the midnight on the way to the kitchen to get one spoonful of Hagan Daz. She had a craving.

“Go to bed Olie, go to sleep Diablo,” she whispered as she headed back to her empty bed, where she would drift back to sleep again, and dream of fish who would speak to her about the feel of the deep against the smooth plates of their scaly, silver skin.

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