Sunday Morning Fishing by Ric Myworld 200 Word Story writing prompt entry |
Sunday morning, the sun’s rays spray through the trees like laser beams. A soft breeze blows across the lake’s crystal-clear water as a deep croak bellows from, undoubtedly, a Mack-daddy frog. I can see his legs jumping as they sizzle in the skillet, already. I flip the tip of my ultra-light rod sending the fluorescent orange-stick bobber flying through the air, landing with a plunk as it sends a rippling effect atop the water. I lay that crappie pole in a holder and grab up my rig for catching big catfish off the bottom. I give it a giant cast and it floats for about 50 yards to the lake’s center. An ice-cold Budweiser, the “Breakfast of Champions,” I pop a top to wet my whistle as I sit down in my comfy-butt extra-padded fold-up chair. The big pole doubles over, drag roaring, line zinging. I snatch it up and yank to set the hook, but the faster I reel, and harder I pull, the more line this monster peels off. I slip, falling on my butt. Then, wallow in the muddy bank as my new rod and reel skim off down the lake. I should have gone to church.
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Ric Myworld
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