The road stretched out long and straight through the desert. Signs of civilisation appeared. Bait 1 km. Fishing tackle Menindee General Store. “It’s hard to believe…” I stopped for now in front of me I saw a huge lake. An oasis that replaced the red sand.
“Yep, its hard to believe.” The water shimmered in the sunlight. We stopped and bought gear and headed to the waters edge. We fished all afternoon without a bite but our friendship was becoming as solid as cement.
On returning to our friend’s place he said ” Well they caught you hook, line and sinker.”
In response to Charli’s prompt where this week she asks:
April 26, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a fish tale. It can be about fishing from any angle, about those who fish, or what might be caught. Go where the prompt leads.
Respond by May 1, 2018. Use the comment section below to share, read and be social. You may leave a link, pingback or story in the comments.
If you want your story published in the weekly collection, please use this form. If you want to interact with other writers, do so in the comments (yes, that means sharing your story TWICE — once for interaction and once for publication). Rules are here.
During our early days when friendship was all there was we did a lot of fishing. Everywhere we went we seemed to pull out a line. Only occasionally did we catch anything which was very lucky as neither of us could do the necessaries to get the fish to the dining room table. We felt so guilty pulling the hook out of their mouths we really were relieved when we didn’t get a bite. The peace and calm and conversation was really all we wanted. To this day we don’t know whether Lake Menindee has fish in it or not.