homo ciris

An arch, chill neon light, wires hang overhead, motorised storage tanks and an elderly man in tracksuit trousers and sandals. He grabs a pot and heads for the hall, where it bubbles and gurgles. Mumbling Latin names all the while, he peers through the glass panels and scatters feed into the aquaria. He talks to the fish, reassures them and watches on at the rainbow coloured play of fins, scales and bug eyes. A gentle, debonaire aficionado who dreams himself into the world of the fish. A wonderful, modern-day fairytale.