7.24.23

Let me remember the dream before it remembers me. We were by a pier on a beautiful, sunny day. Somebody had given me a fishing rod and there was a sense of urgency in the air. I cast the line into the ocean and to my surprise I caught a large yellow fish. I reeled it in and the fish on the line flew across the pier and landed behind me in front of my friend. I shouted to my friend: kill the fish, do it quickly. I remembered the supermarket fish from childhood and the butcher's hammer. The quicker we moved, the less suffering for the fish. My friend was overwhelmed and could not bludgeon the fish. So they ran with the fish flapping in their hands past me, and before I could do anything, they set it free into the water. I thought of the fish swimming around with a hole in its cheek and its memory of being surrounded by air it could not breathe. I felt sorry for both us and the fish. I was disappointed in my friend for not doing something that even I did not have the courage to do.