Saturday, September 16, 2017

STRANGER - 22 SEPTEMEBR


FLY FISHING


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Casting off his line, the lure flew through the air, landing in the river's current. Travelling along and bobbing, before yanked back in the air in a fluid motion of Bobby Brown's wrist.

He fished these waters for nearly twenty years, where his dad first taught him. 

"Worst luck ever today, the fish aren't biting." He spat.

So, Bobby packed up his gear and carried it back to his pick up, where he noticed odd tracks veering off the side of the road.

Following them, they went down the other side of the embankment. There they disappeared into the bushes.

He put his fishing gear down and scooted down the embankment to the first tree. From there he peered through the vegetation.

"Oh shit!" Bobby cursed under his breath scurry back up to the road.

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