Realization

© Randal W. O’Rourke

Exhaustion crept over Aristotle, then tiptoed down by the water to watch the fish. While exhaustion played ichthyologist, Aristotle dreamed of a perfect world. Only in Aristotle's perfect world it rained perch for twenty minutes every afternoon around three, and he was on the other side of the glass.

Life in the zoo wasn't so bad, really, he just found it a bit stifling. Aside from a couple of nubile young chicks that made him wish, periodically, that he had lips, there were only his experiments to keep him entertained. But, now he had news. He'd been up most of the previous night laboring over the final calculations, and now he had to warn them.

As if it weren't frustrating enough being a penguin with an imagination, and a keen awareness that he was a penguin, he had to look up one day and spy Jeffrey.

It would have been nice if he could have just pecked on the glass and shouted, "Pardon me! Did you happen to notice the custodian?!" Unfortunately, the most elaborate phrase in the penguin language consisted solely of a series of squawks, which loosely translated meant "Are you going to finish that?"

It had very nearly killed him earlier in the morning when he finally captured the attention of a group of nuns on a weekend outing. Initially, it was the shock that nearly killed him.