Saturday, January 08, 2005

My Morning, Hemingway Style

When I awoke, it was overcast. It was raining.

I fished one one such morning not too long ago.

It came to pass on a cold breezy morning. I remember pushing an old battered boat into the icy stretch of Lake _____. I lept in to it quickly when an unforseen gust of wind pushed it out.

A friend of mine named Earl had come to fish to that day. But, the boat had drifted out before Earl could jump in. Earl fished from the dock.

I put a large worm onto the hook, carefully sliding its body along the length on the hook. With a fair yank, I cast it out into the lake and watched the sinkers take the worm down into the murky depths. Then, I waited.

The early morning sun slide accross the hazy horizon. But, it brought little warmth as it built in intensity. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and leaned my head all the way back. I looked at world that had been turned upside down. The water hung there in the air, but didn't crash down on me. I wondered about how Earl managed to float upside down in the sky.

It came with a massive jerk. I jerked back, more out of anger than skill. I saw bubbles float up almost like the fish was laughing at me. "Ha, you devil!" I exclaimed back.

The fish shot out of the water. It must have been at least a five pound bass. It wasn't jumping in an effort to fight me. It was jumping to spite me. I jerked again. I wanted to eat him now. I just did.

Then, the fish was gone. I wasn't quite sure when it happened. I reeled in the empty hook.

Today is a morning like that morning. I walked into my bathroom, and brushed my teeth. It was a good, hard brush. The bristles went back and forth and cleaned my teeth.

We had a basic breakfast. The cereal was familiar. It had wheat flakes, with some soy crunch mixed in. The milk was supposed to go bad today. We had it anyway. It was not bad yet.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

That fish was a bitch.

6:13 PM  

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