The Secrets of My Goldfish

“Pat, do you want a know a top-secret of mine”, eight year old Betty chirped from high between the ground and shade of the oak …

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Beneath the spirally arranged leaves of a majestic oak tree, which rose commandingly on the surround of a lake; Betty and Pat were seated on the wooden plank of their swings suspended by ropes from the tree’s branch on either side; pumping the swings by firmly holding the ropes to kick the sky to move forward, to hide and tuck their legs like a turtle to move back.  

Their swings swayed back and forth like pendulums on either side of the tree, in opposite motion to meet at the midst of the trunk , quivering the wandered lobate margin leaves of the tree with the wallop of their wave on the heath, fronting the lake which reflected the adjoining green foliage along its curvy confines in its sapphire water.

“Pat, do you want a know a top-secret of mine”, eight year old Betty chirped   from high between the ground and shade of the oak,

“It is your secret, don’t you want to keep your top-secret a secret”, responded eight year old Pat from the other end pumping his swing to rise above the ground to giggle at Betty.

“You’re my best-buddy … didn’t you share your secret of raiding the fridge for chocolates every night, puzzling   your mom  to assume it’s your dad, I didn’t  tell this to anyone except my mom”, and she cackled with delight at Pat’s frown.  

“You told this to your mom!” Pat howled, “And I was wondering why my mom has suddenly begun to lock the fridge at night”, he sturdily threw a dry twig at Betty to keenly demand, “Now would you please tell me what’s your top-secret so that it no longer remains a secret”.

“My Dad gifted me a pair of orange goldfish …”

“Is this your secret?” Pat fervidly interrupted and chortled to annoy Betty,

“You moron!”  Betty shrieked with her big eyes gawking to grasp him like a feeble prey,

 “Alright my very smart Betty, you may please continue … and stop gawking at me”, stated Pat to chortle again,

“… and when I murmur my little secrets to them, they swim near the edge of the pot in response, they are soooo beautiful”,

“You have a pair of goldfish in a pot!” Pat squalled and abruptly halted his swing to state angrily, “Don’t you know Betty that goldfishes die in a pot?”

Betty halted her swing  to coo, “Is that true, Pat?”

“Yes, they need a very big aquarium or a fishpond because they grow very big”, he specified with a sagacious mien.

 “Will my goldfishes die in the pot?”  Betty whimpered,

Pat stepped quickly towards Betty and gently wrapped his fingers and thumb around the edges of her hands to counsel affectionately , “We’ll put them back into the lake and let the freshwater take care of them”, then loosening the grip he wickedly enquired,” By the way, what are their names?”

 “Betty and Pat”, Betty giggled.

“Ah! My Goodness! Betty you are a nutcase”, teased Pat to cascade Betty with oak leaves,

“Pat you are a crackpot!” responded Betty to cascade Pat with oak leaves,

Later, by the bank of the picturesque lake Betty and Pat ecstatically witnessed the goldfishes swimming merrily in the freshwater’s of the lake.

 

Author: mirandavoice

My interest in writing expands to travel, history, social and general topics. My articles are based primarily on my observations and curiosity in life. You will find the links of my articles in my Twitter account: mirandapresence My blog mirandavoice.com displays my thoughts. My blog masalahealth.wordpress.com (Quick Indian recipes – Easy, healthy,delicious) has recipes of my innovation in Indian cuisine. Journey along with me into the world of curiosity, Thank you. Sylvia Miranda (mirandapresence@gmail.com)

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