Now it’s raining and I’m covered in seaweed.

I say “shit” and flick the lure back to the ocean. My son caught a ten-pound bass here last week. He called to tell me and then he hung up. That seemed petty. This is the fifth day I have come here and brought this canoe out to this spot and sat down and used this fishing pole to fish. I was excited on the first day.

A southerly breeze tries to take the fishing pole out of my hands. I feel unsteady so I put a hand on the boat’s edge. This is a mistake. Something bites my lure and my sloppiness allows the pole to fly away in an attempt to catch the prey on its own.

Now it’s raining and I’m covered in seaweed and my pole has drowned. I say “shit” again. I may not come back tomorrow.

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 22nd, 2009 @ 2:28 pm on the category Writing Exercise. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.