My mother told me not to tap on the glass.
She said the fish don’t like it.
How would she know?
I had never seen her talk to the fish.
She didn’t have superpowers.
My father didn’t either.
They had given these fish to me when I was five.
These are survivors.
I sit there and watch them swim.
Back and forth in the tank one size too small.
I’m older and wiser to know why they got me the fish.
Because they like quiet and dogs bark too much.
This is what I tell myself.
Now let me get back to watching my fish.