Plastic Fish

They came swimming into the harbour with the morning tide, a flurry weaving in and out of the buoys and knocking against the old boats. Like a school of fish two miles long and wide. They moved as one, some afloat, some submerged, some pushed beneath even the seaweed, tumbling through the watery maze. No direction, no purpose, just a will to travel the world.

Some had been exploring the waters for years, while dozens of others were new to the flock. It didn't matter their shape or size - the sea didn't discriminate.

Sat atop the harbour wall licking half melted ice-lolly from their fingers, children pointed for their parents to see. Such a dazzling display of faded colour! Worn off with the salt but visible still. In they threw the little wooden stick, which was quickly surrounded and disappeared into the mass.

The fishermen retreated, their nets newly full of the tricky stash. Quite impossible to ship. Whilst on the other side, holiday makers simply picked up their towels and moved further down the coast.

The plastic fish were only ruining the scenery.

Photo by Andy Waddington via Wikimedia Commons

Sea washed plastic debris, Camus Daraich