Tapping Glass

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There is a fish in my home. It is a pet. It has it’s own room in an aquarium.

I feed the fish food pellets twice a day when I remember.

This past week it occurred to me that the fish reminded me of the parents of my generation.

Attention starved. The food pellets are me. They are us.

When I walk away, the fish swims around and the parents stay in the comfort of their own home. Limited movement.

Waiting until I come back again.

 

This entry was written by R F , posted on Tuesday October 08 2013at 04:10 pm , filed under Thoughts . Bookmark the permalink . Post a comment below or leave a trackback: Trackback URL.

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