Act I

As the curtain rises, it is dusk in the pond. Dim light masks six fish, waiting beneath water hyacinth and lotus petals. A slightly tattered tailfin reveals the food shortages of the last few days. What was once a silent choreography on different levels has become a fussy anticipation of a feeding session, tinged with agression. Shadows of branches cross overhead, and a human figure lurks nearby.

Jeremy: Do you see it? Or is it another mirage?

Rico: I see something, but it's hard to say. It might be too early to be a feeding.

Rita: Shhh. Conserve your energy. If it's a feeding, we'll know soon enough.

Adele: Shut up, Rita. If I'd hogged as much of the food as you did yesterday, I could be patient, too. So is it, or isn't it?

Carl: Nope. It's going over to the bamboo.

Akiko: I can't stand watching every little movement. Tell me if something's coming. I'm going back under that hyacinth.

Rita: Well keep your wits about you, will you? Remember, last time you were this hungry and tired, you almost got sucked into the skimmer like Johannes.

Rico: Hush, Rita. She's too little to remember Johannes. Why bring that up at a time like this?

Jeremy: Hey, do you hear that? The soft, raspy crunching sound of food preparation? Could it be?

Carl: It is! It's coming closer!

[A scattering of pellets lands on the surface of the koi's world. They linger, to be sure it's really true. Then they begin to feed, the big fish going first.]

Carl, Rita, Rico: [swim and swirl around one another, near the surface, eating pellets as they descend slowly through the water.]

Adele, Akiko, Jeremy: [They join in on the feeding slightly after the big fish, as the lighter partial pellets fall more slowly. Less respectful of the levels the once maintained, in these slim times, they jut in and out of the feeding area, desperate, in a survival instinct to feed at every opportunity.]

Carl, Rita: [Bonk into each other in a graceless state, lacking the dignity of their species.]

Rita: Watch it, Moron.

All but Rita: [roll their fish eyes. They hate Rita. And if they food shortage lasts much longer, they've agreed she'll be the first to go.]

As the curtain closes, it is daylight now, and light is refracted through the gray-green water, backlighting the tall grasses. In the distance, a Japanese maple is beginning to turn red, and the bamboo, no longer thirsty, glimmers with dew and its recent watering.

Postcript: Actually, no fish have nibbled tails and there was no bonking, whatsoever. Also, I heard no rude names being called in the pond. That was merely to create dialogue, which is hard with fish, since they are silent.

--Jeremy