one time i had a dream that my pet-fish, bubbles, got his own apartment.
it was a little place above a quiet pub in prenarial street. bubbles enjoyed having his own residence that overlooked the traffic of the high street. he'd watch traffic pass by and mock the pedestrians in his mind. he hated their simpleton ways.
people in the pub (it was named "the lucky bishop") started talking about bubbles, however. he had many different guests who he would meet in the pub before they would go upstairs to his flat. prenarial street is a very insular community, given to traditional ways and somber conversation. they thought bubbles was a bit too eccentric -and not in a charming way. they resented his dj skills and they despised his radical politics.
finally, when the first month's rent was due, the landlord came round to see bubbles. the landlord told bubbles that he'd have to find another place to live, things weren't working out, and the pub wanted to open an art gallery in the space.
bubbles said that rent is another form of theft. he moved back into caulkin hall the following month.
