The Drabble Series: Pebbles
Pebbles
Sherlock swims in his tiny bowl and thinks, what if he was to jump out right now? After a few seconds, he's forgotten this. Then, he thinks, perhaps that godforsaken castle could fuck off so he'd have a bit more thinking space.
Sherlock knows his mind is small, yet larger than most of his species. He knows his scales shine a bit brighter than the others before him and he knows he couldn't even grasp onto a thought for a full minute if he tried.
For a few days, Sherlock Goldfish is alone. He swims in circles and thinks of something different each time he passes the tiny plastic treasure chest which could crush him if the lid were to snap shut. He thinks what it would be like for someone to join him behind the neverending glass walls. He thinks that plant in the corner hasn't even responded to the flapping of his tail and finally concludes the black pebbles look especially shiny for this time of the year.
When he is joined by another fish, yellow, bright, crooked tail, he thinks nothing much of it except for 'oh'. He doesn't greet the other, and even if he had once planned to do so, he would have forgotten it halfway through.
Sherlock swims in his tiny bowl and thinks. He thinks his new companion looks as if he'd enjoy a good conversation. He thinks his companion looks rather sweet, in his own, googly-eyed way. After a few hours of this, he thinks that perhaps, he might just love his new friend a teensy bit.
The thought is as fleeting as the rest of them.