Fishing

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What a wonderful day to go fishing.
Misty. Clear water.
His reflection shuddered
as a chill ran up his spine.
He sat on the dock,
smoking cigarette after cigarette,
with his rod in the water.
He dropped the butts into the water,
one by one.
Sinking. Sinking.
He felt a pull,
he began to reel it in.
Pulling, pulling, pulling.
He felt it release.
It was gone.
He took out the rod.
Nothing.





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