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I step on the rocking boat.

I am a zombie.
Dragging my feet, eyes still blurred over.
I hear the motor’s satisfying purr.
The gas fumes burn my nostrils.

I hear the boat’s slapping whoosh sound on the waves.
I see a misty fog.
As my hand runs through it, I feel water droplets collect on my hand.
There is a plop sound as my line is cast in the water.
I am at peace, birds chirping, no conversation, no worries.

My body jolts forward.
A strong force desperately trying to pry the rod from my hands.
Rod bent, line pulling, I have so much control.
The more I reel, the more the anticipation.
Just waiting to see what comes from the water.

A gray, sleek fish flops and slaps on the boat.
He is suddenly at peace, just breathing, looking, waiting.
We release him, watching him dart swiftly through the water.

I wonder, will he remember me?

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