50mm, f2.8, ISO 500, 1/200

This is our fish tank. Usually my sister takes care of it.

Within there’s an entirely different ecosystem from the kitchen it sits in.

Every time I stop by and watch, I wonder about the lives of the fish.

What are their thoughts? Memories? Do they know they are in a fish tank? I’d presume they don’t, but what do I know? We’ve all seen Nemo.

They can see beyond the fish tank. They know when a person walks up. Or at least when a huge looming shadow blob appears beyond the confines of their habitat. They all gather at the plant-ridden surface hoping and waiting for their little pebbles of food. But do they hope? That would mean they have emotions.

There were 2 fish in the beginning. One vibrant male, and a brown-ish female twice his size.

Now there are many more.

We have watched multiple generations of baby fish populate and grow.

And we have found multiple fish sunk, unmoving, at the pebbled floor.

I assume the 2 fish from the beginning are no longer alive. Maybe aged out. Maybe not. After the snail Turbo McQueen died, the tank has since become covered in green. I don’t think that’s so good for the fish.