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Painting Becca Miller
So, the man went to the pond and began speaking with a fish, and the fish was a great listener. Whenever the man spoke, no matter how strangely or quickly he did, the fish would stare up at him with bulb-like eyes, never interrupting. At last, the man asked the fish a direct question, but the fish just continued to sit there with a blank face. After a while, the man walked away from the pond, believing that his pride and intelligence had led to madness. Perhaps if he let his madness wallow away on its own by the pond, he could reclaim his pride and intelligence by the time he got home.
When the man was out of sight and earshot, the fish swam under the water to his friends. It gathered a few fish in a circle, telling all of them with buzzing excitement about how a crazy man had approached him to talk about solipsism and the universe.
“Ludicrous!” said one fish to the other.
“An outrage!”
The main fish held up a fin for silence. “I know,” he said excitedly. “It’s incredibly exhilarating. Everyone knows that humans can’t speak!”
Then, later that night, the fish sat around in a circle, again discussing the simplicity of thoughts, existence, and the structure of the universe.
— Luke Finkelstein
Becca Miller
