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* Twilah

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The Ill-Fated Fishing Trip
By * Twilah
Sunday, July 11, 2004

Rated "G" by the Author.

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A fishing experience that I'd never forget, although exaggerated slightly.

“Have we got everything we need? I don’t want to get there and find out we’ve forgotten something.”
“Yup,” my husband answered. “I have the fishing poles in the car, and the picnic basket’s in there, too…that’s all we need, right?
Soon we were off to the fishing spot for the day and how I dreaded that long (at least that I’d remembered) walk through the woods! But once we got there, we usually went home with our limit for the day. I was hoping today wouldn’t be any different. We arrived at the end of the road leading to the brook, and had to walk the rest of the way. I dreaded the long walk in, but was determined to make the best of this day. Trudging along behind my husband for what seemed like hours, I was starting to get tired, especially carrying the picnic basket. .
“Wow, I don’t remember this walk being so long bef….!” Before I could get the sentence out of my mouth, the branch that my husband had just let go of came back and smacked me across the face.
“Oh, honey! I’m sorry,” he was saying as he helped me up, but I glanced at him just in time to see a smug smile lurking on his face.
“That wasn’t funny, you know!” I blurted out. “I really don’t know why I came on this godforsaken trip with you, anyway!” He wanted me to come so badly, or so he said. Little did he know, I never have much fun with him any more.
“I know, hon.,” he said, “but we are almost there now.” As he said this he started walking, disappearing among the bushes again.
“Wait for me! You always walk a mile ahead of me and you know I don’t know the way by myself. All I need is to get lost in the woods. And why didn’t you remind me that the mosquitoes were going to be this thick? This basket is so darned heavy to carry! All I can say is, I’ll be glad to bet there!”
After walking another mile or two, or at least it seemed that far to me, I could hear swishing of running water and knew we had finally reached the brook. Even the air felt different as it always does near the water. But the further we went and the nearer we got to the brook, the thicker the mosquitoes became. The first thing I’ll do when I get there is put that ever-loving insect repellant on. I thought of how my husband had doused himself with it before we started on the way in, and now I wished I’d done the same.
“Whew! What a relief to get rid of all this junk!” Glancing into the brook, I started getting anxious to get a line out there. But first I had to get the hook baited. Ugh!
“Got the bait?” I asked my husband. “I want to get my line in the water, then I need to put some repellant on.” I thought I saw him look sort of funny when he passed me the worms, but didn’t think any more of it.
“What? You only brought night crawlers? You know I don’t like to use those! You will have to bait my hook for me, now!” How I hated to be so dependent on him. He knew I wouldn’t touch those things. I wondered why he didn’t bring just plain worms. Probably didn’t even care what I wanted, anyway. I disgustedly watched as he baited my hook.
“Want me to fish for you, too?” he asked, teasingly. I shot a glance at him that made that smirk disappear in no time flat. He decided to go back to his own spot to fish. After getting the line in the water and resting the pole on a forked stick in the ground, I was still fighting off mosquitoes. I could see several welts rising up all over my arms and legs now from their vicious bites.
“Joe, would you throw me the mosquito repellant? I am being eaten alive here!”
Joe turned and looked at me with a look of panic in his eyes…and as soon as he spoke, I knew why.
“I…I hate to tell you this...but I left it back at the car…!”

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