By Boris Glikman
One day, as I was walking my dog along the local beach, I saw a goldfish in its small fishbowl, floating along the edge of the ocean. Someone had obviously taken pity on their imprisoned pet and given it a taste of unbounded freedom, convincing the poor fish it was swimming without restraint.
At once it struck me—this is what my own existence has been all along; all this time convinced I was swimming freely in the vast ocean of life, whilst actually stuck in an impermeable puny fishbowl of my own making, carried along helplessly by the inexorable currents.
thank you for publishing my story, much appreciated!
Fabulous contribution, Boris. Loved it.
thank you David, appreciate your feedback.
V nice thought!
Well done. Great insight. Keep writing.
Thank you tskraghu and Kathy for your thoughts. I’m glad it resonated with you
Great story. I got such vivid images. More please
thank you Jeff, appreciate your feedback. There might be a kind of a sequel coming.
Wonderful microcosm of life as in a fishbowl, sans freedom! Loved it.
thank you Bobby, glad you liked it.
Fits the somewhat persuasive platonic notion that what we see of our lives is mostly an illusion. That is, we believe we are freely frolicking in a limitless ocean, but actually are in a feeble shell of our own creation.
Jerry
thank you Jerry, appreciate your thoughts!
So astute! I am in the process of smashing the bowl. No mean feat.
thank you Constaneee, appreciate your feedback. Good luck with smashing the bowl!