Fiction Sketch: Fishy Banter

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“Will you look at that sunset? Is that right off a calendar or what?” Mike said, twisting his body toward the horizon, enjoying the last rays of sun reflecting off the water onto his face.

“It’s amazing, alright,” Tom said, also turning his attention to the west. “I love the way the way the orange comes streaking out of the sun, like an orange dreamsicle that has melted into happy oblivion.”

“I love orange dreamsicles,” Mike said.

“Me too.”

“They are just the perfect mix of orange and crème; there’s nothing else like it.”

Tom turned from the sunset to Mike. “You’re making me hungry, seriously. If you keep that up, we’re going to have to go into this po-dunk town and hit every bait & tackle store until we find an ice cream cooler with orange dreamsicles. Knowing your propensity for getting lost and my uncanny ability to never find what I want in a store, we could be out all night.”

“Big deal. As long as we’re back for fishing at daybreak, that’s all that matters. Maybe we could meet other people to hang out with,” Mike said.

“Listen you may be single, but I’m not, man. My wife would have my hide if she thought we were out meeting anyone of the opposite sex,” Tom said, putting down his pole and picking up his lures.

“Even if we went to bingo with the old folks? You know there’s nothing to do here at night but sit around. There’s only one channel and that has such bad reception that you can’t even see what’s really going on.”

“We can play cards,” Tom said, making an offer.

“I’m tired of cards.”

“Well, we’d have fish to clean and eat if you would have lived up to your bragging. But then again,” Tom laughed, “I know we’ll never be able to count on that as a source of entertainment as long as you’re on the trip! I can only catch so many fish by myself.”

With that he pulled a stringer of three fish into the boat. They flopped around a bit, and Tom caught Mike’s eye. He smiled in superior silence.

“Maybe we had better take you into town and get you an ice cream,” Tom smiled again. “I wouldn’t want you to have a total bomb of a day.”

Mike crossed his arms and nodded his head, “Laugh all you want. Tomorrow I am unveiling the secret lure, and I think you’ll be the one needing an ice cream by tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah?” Tom started the big motor. “You do like to tell tall tales.”

Before Mike could respond, Tom pointed the boat toward the shore and opened the throttle. The last moments of beauty were lost behind them.

This was a fiction sketch I wrote in tribute to my love for fishing. I do have a secret lure. And it works! Thanks to my dad for teaching me how to fish.

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