And then . . . the line . . . broke. Silence filled the valley when echoes of his exasperation finished the chorus.
The fisherman’s hands were wet and shaking as he doubled over. He surrendered to the surface fog and knelt from the heavy punch to his gut.
This post is from contributing author, Pat Burke. It had been a while since Dom and I fished together. Contrasting work schedules, running around with the kids, and family obligations make it difficult to find enough overlap time needed to make a trip worthwhile. ...
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