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Goldie
and forth, trying to recognise something, trying desperately to grab
onto something familiar yet finding nothing. Unease settled deep in
her bones as she once again stared at this man.
The goldfish drifted through the still water, looking and taking it all in; the
mini treasure chest, the pebbles and fake seaweed. He looked at it with familiarity
until, if possible, his eyes enlarged. With panicky movements the goldfish darted
through the water in a mad craze. It gave the impression that he was lost. Lost in
his bowl and lost in life.
Like a flick of a switch the young man in front of her changed into
her loving grandson. Relief dripped off Goldie and air once again
rushed into her lungs. She didn’t know how she could forget her own
grandson and it frightened her, making her realise that she could slip
into the unknown once again with a flip of a tail she could be going
back in circles until her end came.
The goldfish calmed and returned to pacing its bowl. Paddling through the
water with ease. However if you looked deep into those innocent eyes you would
see fear. Fear of the unidentified.
‘
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