Marlene scatters flakes into the tank, the bright glass cage, and smiles like a retarded kid as they swim. Their captivity doesn't delight her; it validates her own. It invalidates both. It's not a prison, it's a world.
In the summer sometimes, any time of the year really but most wonderfully in the summer, you'll have clouds in the sky that are so dark and so heavy, so dense and lonely, that they'll begin to rain even when the sun is out in other patches of the sky. It will be warm, and bright; the rain will catch the sun and the world will be on fire, under glass. Like an eclipse, both things at once; magical. You will be less than alone, at this very special moment. Less alone. The hot rain will drip through your hair and down your shirt, and you won't care, because you love the summer and you love the sun. Because the weight of the rain coming down is comforting, like a blanket or a glass bell, shining. The air electric in the sky.
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