I woke two minutes before the alarm chirped it’s welcome to the start of a new day. My stomach grumbled its own salutation forcing me from the warmth of the bed to the cool tile floor of the kitchen.
Within minutes the coffee machine gurgled and bubbled its magical tune. Roasted, dark, cocoa, it sputtered. The refrigerator hummed and begged for fullness after I removed the lone bag of shrimp bait.
My fishing poles stood at the front door, like sentinels, reels wound tight, ready to cast, luring me forward into the sticky, humid morn.
I pushed open the screen door, fishing pole and bait in my right hand, coffee mug in my left. I padded across the cold, wet sand, my bare feet sunk further as I approached the water. One-Ear, the neighborhood stray, purred and wound its scrawny body around my ankles as I walked.
Sand met water, like old lovers. Lapping softly, quietly, still. But dinner awaited underneath the black ocean. Swimming. Hungry. Back and forth. In circles.
My first cast sang through the thick air. A light whirl, and then a soft plop. The bait sank towards its destiny. I set the reel, and sat to wait.
Would I bury my catch in sea salt and roast it whole? Or fillet its delicate flesh from the tiny bones and sauté it in EVOO? A soft tug on my line. Bait still intact.
Sand fleas grazed on the backsides of my knees. A mosquito buzzed my ear. Soft, gray light exposed itself on the flat surface of the water.
Maybe I’ll marinate it in orange juice and cumin, and then share the carcass with One-Ear.
My second cast was longer, higher. The sun peeked up over the horizon. Its pale, bluish-gray offered a reminder that I needed a bite, a nibble. I reeled in my line, hook empty. Again.
Another cast, anxious now. The sun, a shade of pale yellow, my clock, teased me with the day. My line bobbed. I sprang up, set the hook and shouted “FISH ON!” to the fish Gods.
Reel down, tip up, I reminded myself. Fast, furious splashing. Then my line snapped. I rolled back on my heels, fish gone.
The sun glowed bright orange above the bungalows, announcing time for work.
Still hungry.