All I ever caught was water. The fish weren't friendly. My companions, spread out in their camo and gear, looked severe. Over here, I hollered, but no one came. Tomorrow I tried again, with an outdoor chair made from recycled pastic. (Wikka, it was called.) I might have fallen asleep because I woke up, took me a minute to pick up my end of the line. I'm wearing boots about it.
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