The Chunk

[flatbottom]

The moon was low on the water. Sequenced marbled white water faded to black off the back side of the center console. The wait between sunset and the night seemed forever reaching this point. The afternoon sun had bleached the bare skin on my forehead. I had been warned but who listened when scanning the spread for a ripple not usually there. Hours we trolled on and off the edge in hope of a bite, any bite.

The leaders were changing in unison with the darkness as the soft bite had just begun for what seemed the night. The death raiders of the night have split up. The wolf pack breathes again. It has to eat. Nothing will stop this now. The dark slashing motion of death will not stop till sunrise. The air was moist and salty smelling of chum and dinner warming at the same time. I preferred the chum slinging to potted meat any day. I had slammed my meals while starring in the diamond glistening spread during the day. It becomes eerie sitting on the back of the boat, not being able to see what is eyeballing you from beneath. I tried not to focus on the black water. It will consume you in ways the devil hasn’t created yet.

The wait

The wait

Something is beneath the boat. I have become one with the constant movement and I know something is down there. I can feel the pressure on my body or my heart beat is forcing blood through my eyes focusing the darkness, forcing the black water deeper to thought. The Molten metallic Black liquid, staining the side of the boat for and instant with its rhythmic beat, can play against your sole as the moon is the only light that has constant dimension at this time.
You begin to think everything around you can focus on your inter being. I have begun to feel small as the mind adjusts to the greater abyss. The blackness you rhythmically keep time to has finally connected and embraced the universe. Where are you now? You look down to reward yourself into the dark blackness. Hoping for a thought to right the eerie feelings the cold moist salty air has placed upon your clothing. You know it will work its magic to your core. Sling more chum. Focus. Sling more chum. Is this the answer I need right now? The black water will not answer. The wolf pack is I control. The sloshing of the water has a faraway base sound. I want to hear it again but it fades. The pack has the chum smell but it is still securing the parameter.

The wait

The wait


continue the story

creative writing class 101
the chunk
sportfishermen.com

[squirtis]

right on the nose my man......

I just spent 10 minutes with my eyes closed back on the "chunk"

[gradywhite273]

So I open up a bag of salt and vingegar chips and continue to wait. I think to myself , why am I here ??? This ocean is so big, and my boat so small. I shoul d be tied up at the dock, eatin thrashers french fries.

[flatbottom]

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