| It was a beautiful late Saturday afternoon looking out over the water. There was a gentle summer breeze coming across the lake caressing their faces. George dug out some hamburger they brought to feed them until they caught fish. Jess got the campfire lit and set up the grill over the fire. While George got the burgers going on the grill, Jess looked out over the landscape admiring how very green everything was along the lake shore. They were on the east end of the lake and he could see both the beginnings of the south and the north shores from their perspective. The sun gleamed across the water as it continued its downward journey toward the other side of the planet. They downed their burgers and chased them with some cold beers. By the time the sun was hugging the horizon they were getting their fishing poles baited up and tossed out along the spot the sandbar started its northern border stretching out into the lake. Each man had brought three poles. They strategically threw their baits out so to give each line some room for fighting the fish without it getting caught in the line next to it. They used pole-holders to secure the fishing poles. They were aimed out at the water each with a barely visible line reaching out toward the deeper parts of the lake. As the sun peaked over the western horizon it served as warning that very soon it would be too dark to see the fishing poles. The men produced some of those things that when you break them they light up. The put one on each fishing pole’s tip so they could see the poles move when a fish was on it. The weird sounds started almost as soon as the sun slipped completely beyond visible sight. They heard tree limbs, or perhaps complete trees, snapping in half all around their campsite. There were “Woops” and even some sort of chatter that neither of the men understood. next page |  |