Visrijder (Fish Rider)

A uniformed man rides a flying silver fish through a sunset desert, an auctioneer's gavel raised in one hand, an anchor trailing into thin air below. It is the wrong mount once more, and every instrument of control has been fitted to precisely the wrong element, a hammer that commands nothing, an anchor that grips only sky. A one-line visual joke about trying to steer a steady course through a world where none of your tools fit.