Monday, June 10, 2019

Slow Fishin'

This morning at 3:45 a.m. I heard a growl behind me, and rocks fell as I sat alone by the Oregon river under stars. I thought it was local guys I know playing a trick, but when they arrived an hour later they said no, and no other cars were above but they saw two deer running scared. Anyway, I opened my 3-inch blade imagining Mr. Mountain Lion's fangs and claws. I recalled the fight scene between Butch and Logan, and wondered how hard it would be to kick the crotch of an attacking mountain lion at high speed, then decided my chances were slim to none. You just don't get that kind of thrill in city life.

Suz said I can't go home until I catch 5 salmon. Do you think she'll notice the barcodes?

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