I found myself looking at one at the market today. I guess a lot of people do. With the difference perhaps that I had been talking to it. By the look on its face, it had been remarkably dead for quite some time.
It looked like my aunt. But my aunt could plan things in advance. Yes, the marvels of intelligence. My aunt had credit cards and pens. My aunt could write and this fish could obviously not do these things. However, in the water….well…unfair game.
After some 20 minutes or so I was actually trying to determine its nationality and religion. How very strange. That is how far into this trance I was ‘befished’. It must have suffered a horrible death. Suffocation, like all others? Or, did it bite on a bait? Strange sound this thing…. “bite on a bait”.
Gasping for air, one way or another….I was too after a while. “Must be a horrible thing, not to able to write a check or mail a registered letter to a friend”. How can one survive like that?
PS: A ‘gefilted‘ kind of comment from a wonderful friend in NY (Eugene Goldstein)
“Befished. Or besotted between befriend and bechert. Belay and begone, betwixt pixillated buffoonery!”