Castle. Ship.

Back and forth. Back and forth. 

          The little yellow goldfish blew a few bubbles as it circled around its tank, its eyes giant. It went over the plastic castle decoration and around the algae-dotted pirate ship, before turning around and starting again. And again. And again.

          I tapped my finger against the tank, and the goldfish adjusted its path, swimming in a few angry shakes, glaring at me. But after checking over every inch of the tank, it resumed its swim and began to circle around and around. 

          I raised my finger to disrupt it again, but my older brother smacked my hand. 

          “Leave it alone,” he said, “That hurts them.” 

          “But I’m not touching it,” I complained. 

          “You don’t have to touch it to hurt it.” He glared at me before going back to his homework.

          I huffed with frustration, laying my head on my hand, and watched it go. Over the castle, around the pirate ship, over the castle, around the pirate ship. Over and over and over. 

          With a glance at my brother to make sure he wasn’t watching, I laid my index finger against the glass. The goldfish spit out a few angry bubbles and swam up to where my finger pressed against its home, swishing around angrily. It bumped the glass like it was trying to get rid of me, so I removed my finger. It watched me, carefully making sure I was truly leaving it alone, before it went back to circling. 

          Castle. Ship. Castle. Ship. Castle. Ship. Castle. Ship. 

          I tapped the glance again, and my brother looked up with a sharp, “Hey!” 

          Before he could scold me, I asked, “Isn’t it boring? Just swimming around and seeing the same two things over and over again?” My brother’s in fourth grade. He’s smart. He should know. 

          He looked at me before turning back to the goldfish who was just chugging along on its usual path. Castle. Ship. Castle. Ship. “I don’t know. I think it likes it.”

          “How can it?” I felt my brow wrinkle at the absurdity. “Nothing ever changes!” 

          “Some things don’t like change.” 

          “How can you not like change?” 

          “Says the girl who refuses to eat anything but peanut butter and jelly.” He gave me a stern look, so I turned away focusing on the fish. “Leave it alone, I need to finish this.” 

          I reached my hand up to touch the tank again, but my brother whacked me with his pencil.

          “Ow!” I yanked my hand back and rubbed the sting away. 

          “If you don’t stop messing with the fish, I’m going to tell Mom, and you’ll get in trouble and won’t get to see the fish again.” 

          I screwed up my face and turned back to the fish, tucking my hands beneath my legs. “Fine. I won’t touch.” 

          “Let’s see how long this lasts…” My brother whispers. He gives me one last scowl before focusing on his textbook. 

          The little fish, unbidden by any distractions, speeds along around its tank, taking sharp turns and brushing by the corners. It skates over the castle and breezes by the ship, its little slipstream kicking after it. 

          Castle. Ship. Castle. Ship. Over and over again. 

          My eyes start to unfocus as the little yellow whistles around, a blur against its watery world. It looks like a shooting star on an evening night, so bright I could make a wish on it as it moves in its rhythmic loop. It entrances me, hypnotic, pushing me deep in a lullaby. 

          Castle. Ship. Castle. Ship. Castle ship castle ship castle ship castle ship castle ship castle ship castleshipcastleshipcastleshipcastleship—

          I touch the glass.