"How do you do," said the fish to the staircase.
"Feeling weary having viewed the Saturday evening
through the sounds of the news in the living room."
"Well," the fish said
from the mantle above the bed
in the master bedroom,
"I'm sure you have not missed much,
in the gestures and faces featured."
The staircase sighed.
"Is something else the matter," the fish asked.
"There is a warning of a flash flood,"
the staircases voice hidden in bits by a thunderous boom.
"That's alright," the fish piped
wheeling about in it's bowl like
a reflector to the wheel of a bicycle.
"I've been meaning to go about town
with my new and still pressed Saturday evening suit and
snake skin shoes. I've been waiting all my life
to get out, haven't you?"
