t of fishing, I rapidly bait my hook with one of the slimy black leaches my dad bought the day before. Three pesky flies swarm around me, I try and try again swatting them away, but I soon give up because they keep coming back like persistent warriors. Once I ignore the flies and my dad stops doubling over in laughter, we both cast our lines on opposite sides of the boat. Leisurely, I bob the line up and down. As I sit back in the uncushioned, rickidy chair, I let my mind drift off. I t…
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