4(?)/29/1999 Geoff Ashbrook
Omar Jenkins looked down at his stomach as he was passing by the corner of the football field which runs right out into the intersection at Pakes and Magry, and somebody was hungry. He took off his sunglasses, and with the cuff of his shirt he polished off all three round glass surfaces, so as to see better. He changed course slightly and turned left on Illsdale and jogged down to the end of the block. Spotting the door to the store he wanted, he dashed up and caught it as an old lady was leaving with purple velure gloves and three miniature poodles, yipping and kick-able, on elastic leash-chords. He walked right in and waved to Roy, who stood behind the counter, confused as ever, with a half disassembled price tag gun in his hands. Omar walked down his isle, past the hair combs and shampoos and nail files, past the stain removers and deodorizers, and around to the isle cap. He scanned down the labels on the little glass jars of fishfood, NL, Afghani, BC’s which were perpetually on sale, he picked up a jar of Blueberry Shag, tapping the jar about to look at the vaguely iridescent pellets. He brought it right up to the front of the counter. "How goes it today, Omar." "It goes quite well as a matter of fact." Roy smiled slowly and spoke taking what some people would consider too much a portion of his own time, "Yes, you have that bounce thing going when you walk, hmmm." Omar lifted up the heal of his shoe. "Actually that’s the new shoes," he said, pushing around the swiveling heal which then violently jerked out on hydraulic arms. "hhmm," Roy said, punching in the codes for the fish food.
As soon as Omar got outside, he unscrewed the cap on the little jar, and pushed his tee shirt out of the way, and let fall into the small glass bowl a teaspoon or so of the pellets which floated on the top of the water’s surface. Clisbis, his fish, eagerly pecked away at the pellets, and the water in the bowl sloshed around a bit as Omar made his way back to the train station. It was a beautiful day. Only a few fluffy white clouds floating against the high blue walls of the sky, and more people were out than usual. And the sun made the neatest splayed arrays of light over the ground as it passed through everyone’s water filled glass bellies, whatever the shape of the tank, casting a shadow of the fish on the pavement, illuminating the fish and surrounding clear to those who walked above it.