His laughter, his reprieve is an interval in between a tinted field, lying flat beneath dry stalks of desperate color, burnt umber and piney green. He imagines a Japanese pond, the fragrance of yellow water lilies and retiring beneath them, in the shelter of the shade. Submerged underwater, amidst a choir of Koi fish, huddled under the dangling roots, crumbly and loose as worn rope. He imagines one by one they would part away, swimming towards the glittering frost beyond the blue green. From your perspective you can see a slight swish, a slight ****** as their heads peak above, the opening of their mouth, to take in a gulp of the sun.