Friday Fictioneers – Goin’ Fishing

(No note. Just write!)

© Dale Rogerson

Goin’ Fishing

by Miles H. Rost

“Well, that’s the last of ’em.”

“Last of what?”

“The ice fishers. They got their shed off the lake, just in time.”

“Well, what do we do with them gone?”

“We welcome the new anglers in. But, first, we need to make sure the area is cleaned. The ice storm took a lot of branches down.”

“We’re not as young as we used to be.”

“And yet the work never gets done.”

“We’ve spent the last 57 years here.”

“If I had a choice, we’d spend 57 more.”

“huh. 57 more springs. I don’t know if I could do it.”

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6 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers – Goin’ Fishing

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