Tapping Glass
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.