fish in plastic bags

My house mate bought a coy fish for the small backyard pond. It was swimming around in its clear plastic bag so I had a good look at silver and orange scales. Whenever I see fish in plastic bags I can't help remembering that sad scene in Miranda July's "You, me, and Everyone We Know" film where someone leaves a newly bought goldfish on the roof of their car by accident and drives away. 

Mainly I just explored the vicinity of the house, figuring out where things are kept, taking in laundry when the afternoon thunder arrived, and watching disc I of Sigur Ros's stunning 2006 Icelandic tour documentary. I loved the shot of the boy riding his bike in the Ocean, of Icelandic ponies herded over rough terrain, of water seeming to go up instead of down the falls. The owner of the house who now lives in Virginia, bought himself a huge flatscreen t.v. for his birthday and left it here. Its a treat to watch such cinematography on. I haven't lived in a house with a T.V. for four years. Luckily my house mates use use the t.v. mainly for movies. Still getting over a cold, and, I guess, adjusting to altitude.