There had been much `glubbing` on the final frontier - the surface of the interface of all things known. Though it was perceived in a dim, some would say uncomprehending way - that things lurked beyond - perhaps in a fractile sense of being a whipping boy at a public school. Or perhaps much more than that. Though it would help if you were a `sensitive soul` - at least in the corporeal - if not spiritual sense.

There was always a sense of content being somehow `filtered` as though the Harvest Moon tracking overhead could be remembered - and some emotion - residual - but persitant - linked a species constant over millenia - but gilded through Chinese Emporer`s exclusivity, these last few hundred years.

Time passed. Perhaps excruciatingly slowly - or it may have been fast, with a regular Human perception of `Newtonian flow`

It would have been good to know - in the final analysis.

Ten years - a long time with no stomach and such a short gut. The flies to think about too.. a fair `crop` of the regulars though this Summer.

A good time to go I suppose - in such an abundance of Autumnal bounty. No lying there bloated with slowly clouding eyes. What perceptive powers they had! being as they were on either side of the head..........

No. Just GONE...

Ten year looking up and me looking down.

The other one gave that universal signal of hanging about `with nothing to do`

I bought a new one and as it slipped through the interface it looked up.

Was it seeing the eye of God - or perhaps its own distant relative looking down?

The Harvest Moon will have seen it all - when we were able to embrace in ages gone and swim silently in the enduring sea.

Death of a pond Goldfish. `Replaced` for £1.75p

Edited by CL Grease on 03/09/2010 at 18:38