They are the only ones that I scare away. I am the only one who makes them swim away. Five frightened fish with scales all over and fins on their sides. Five who have to swim near me instead of going somewhere else in the lake. Five scared fish there to whip past my body as I enter the water. From the dock I see them through the clear water, but my grandma tells me that they swam away.

Their movement is swift. They send shivers through my body when I feel them around me. They come closer because of their curiosity and sometimes brush their sliminess against you, but then swim away as fast as they can once you make the slightest move. This is how they learn.

Let one forget his reason for being, they’d all be getting braver and swimming around me all day, each with their tails and fins working back and forth. Swim, swim, swim fish say as they see me dive in and are frightened. They learn.

When I am too cold and too tired to keep swimming, when I am a set of worn muscles against so many currents, then it is I look at the fish. When there is nothing left to be scared of in the water. Five who learned despite fear. Five who search and do not forget to search. Five whose only reason is to swim and be frightened by me.