The Webs We Weave

I've got some fish, and they live in a swanky tank.

I'd like to write a monologue about the fish. It would detail how the fish had moved into a new, hip apartment. Everyone involved was really excited about the new pad, and good feelings ran high. However, as the months go by the good cheer would grow stale. The fish would settle into a routine, and somewhere along the line it would turn into a rut. Nobody comments on it, and nobody does anything. After a while, life as a fish just wouldn't be any fun anymore. Tensions would begin to tear at the formerly good fish friendships. Passive-aggressiveness would become the law of the land, and soon nobody would talk to each other anymore, and nobody would come over for parties anymore.

Then I'd like to record a dramatic reading of this awkward social slice of life, and have it be the soundtrack of a recording of my fish, swimming in their swanky tank.