Maybe if I take five more steps, throw one more mend, skate one more fly, a hero will appear, armored in chrome, and dance to the music of my singing reel.

A grey submarine breached in the middle of The Dean; a Cold War relic tethered to me by a thin strand of Dacron, showing itself only for a moment as it headed out to sea. It was late July and most of the Kings had already entered the system.  Anglers crazy enough to target, Read More