Hilda and Zach walked through the aquarium tunnel slowly, as if they were in a wedding march. Hilda did not smoke any pot beforehand, because she had to look after Zach, so it was not exactly the birthday experience she was looking for.
Zach was silenced by the spectacle of the shimmering blue water and the schools of fish, and that was ok with Hilda. She was glad his leftover high was not a chatty one, because for sure, she would have punched him if he told her his thoughts one more time, as if they were unique and more important than her own.
Zach didn’t mean anything by it, Hilda knew. It was the nature of some highs. They turned you inside out.
But walking through the aqua-light aquarium tunnel, sober, Hilda was herself filled with light, and wished she was in the space alone, without holding Zach’s hand, or listening to the chatter of the children on a school excursion.
So there were glimmering, silver schools of fish, darting in impossible, exquisite patterns, and school children awakened for the first time to something outside their experience and bursting to express themselves, and Hilda, searching in earnest for a connection and almost missing it, because she was slow to realize that there was no harmony to be found if you isolated yourself from the tangible world that surrounded you.
Their slow wedding-march through the aquarium tunnel did not lead anywhere. That was good too, and Zach would get it, because he was still high.
Hilda, newly awakened, understood it, too.
- Image: Gun Legler