Fishbowl World

I’m sitting on the edge of my bed in my dorm room, staring vacantly out the window. My mind is thinking about everything and nothing all at once. King, the Beta fish that has recently taken up residence on my roommate’s dresser, swims languidly inside his rectangular container. He swims to the bottom, then around to each of the sides. I consider the way I pace the room when I’m caught up in thought; my feet hit the floor, and I walk the rectangular perimeter of floor space leftover from the beds and other furniture. Perhaps King is thinking too. It’s the only way we can be free in this fishbowl world.