Glub Glub

Sebastian fluttered and swayed in the wind. Strung up by a hook in his mouth, he was left to hang, to "swim" in the air for everyone to see, but no one to really notice. Through rain, snow, and sun, he hung.

"Do you think I'll ever just swim like other fish?" he asked to the expansive blue.

There was no answer, not unlike what he had expected, and he was left once again alone with his troublesome thoughts. Sebastian's true aspirations had been to become a choclatier, but those dreams had been put on hold ever since the capture. He watched one car, two cars, the chipped paint on the side of the house, his reflection in the window, three cars. He fell back on the rippling air, it jolted him, pushed him up, in a circle and then faded once more. Sebastian was still.

"Strange," he thought, "The air that holds me captive is the air that I fall back on."

He glubbed, glub glubbed. Glub