Another 10 minute prompt writing, without lifting the pen for 10 minutes straight:
Snag it. Snag that fish swimming so quickly through the salty ocean waves. Tempt him with your bait of shrimp, “cut bait” of other unfortunate fish in bits, pulled from your freezer for just this day.
Snag it. Snag it, reel it in, growing heavier with each crank of the reel. Feel the jerky movement through the steady waves, pulling back to snag it. To test it. Is it just a wave? The ocean’s wave action? Or is it really a fish? A good catch, or just a little sucker? Or one that knowingly nibbles the bait off your hook and goes on swimming his merry little way on down the beach?
I love the feel of the nibble. The patient waiting, the lazy day spent absorbing the endless sounds of the churning surf. But really I don’t want to clean a fish, or even cook it up. Let’s go out to Captain Pete’s for a seafood dinner after we go in from this glorious day of fishing and shelling and swimming, showering off the sticky, salty day.
Snag it. Snag the beauty of the day. Snag the peaceful ions, absorbing them into the very fiber of your being. But let’s throw back any fish we snag. Better yet, let them eat bait. Let them eat all the bait while we wait, and wait, and breathe in the peace of God.