Wish for a Fish

I am living in a small yellow Victorian cottage with white trim, in every way it is the peak of sweetness, a home built for one. A large wraparound porch with warm wooden slats, big rattan chairs that feel good under a cleanly manicured set of fingernails and a beautiful flowering garden that I could hardly keep up with were it reality. They enclose me in this wonderful world and I have never felt more at home. There so happens to be a neighborhood farmers market today, and they just so happen to be hosting a huge aquarium show, I look over to my three fat goldfish in their meager aquarium with two plastic plants of neon hue and decide that they should be entered into such an exhibition, so I call and reserve a table for later on in the afternoon.

Being left now with a free hour, I was disposed to check up on my aging neighbors, so I took a brief jaunt down the block. The trees here are huge willows that dappled the sun across all surfaces so my outside world feels much like being underwater on a sunny day in the tropics. My neighbors all had beautiful old houses adorned with multitudes of colorful blooms. As I walked the sky became gray and it started to rain a little, so giving up on my journey in exchange for a dry and mild afternoon in, I sped up my step and turned back home. Arriving just before it upgraded to a mild downpour, I made my way into the sun-room just off the kitchen and put the water on.

I watched the rain outside, tracing it on the window with a finger, hoping it would disappear so I could head out to the show. My fish swam listlessly in their bowl, nonplussed by the delay. As the pitter-patter of tiny droplets began to subside, it was nearing on six o clock at night. I remained  determined to attend the show, so I put down the ceramic mug I had been sipping tea from, grabbed my backpack and my wallet, and loaded up the fish tank into my blue explorer. The drive was short, the most familiar path I had ever followed in my life. I reached the market having spilled most of the water out of my fish tank on the ride over, and immediately stopped by a spicket before my fish could worry too much for their well-being. I looked around until I spied my station and set my aquarium on a white plastic table that had been empty, reserved for me, all day.

there was only about an hour left, so a large number of the other displays had been, or were in the process of being taken down, and I could only imagine, how the fleeting glimpses I was able to capture into the saltwater wonders of others had looked, all lined up so prettily together. I left my lonely booth for a moment to look at all the kitschy do-dads for sale from the other vendors, but they were selling things for much more than I could afford, so I went back to my table, disassembled my display and packed up to go home feeling very fulfilled.

I drove home in the oncoming dark, yet the road looked the same coming and going, as if I was traveling from my house again, only to arrive at my house. I don’t remember whether I left my fish in the car or brought the tank in, but once home I sunk to sleep on a wide pink ottoman in my living room.

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