An Aquatic Tale

Published by Matthew S. Lewis at Smashword

Copyright 2013 Matthew Lewis

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Thistles snagged Howard's boots and briars tugged at his pants. The fishing net clutched atop the twelve gauge shotgun bobbed mercilessly up and down as thread snagged on thorns and threatened to rip it in two, metal gonging against polished steel. Had the net been made of twine it probably would not have endured such rugged treatment, and had the gun been a lesser breed it might have fallen apart by now. Howard, always wary of destroying his toys, made sure to prevent that by shopping and shopping wisely. His net was made of nylon and could stand up to just about anything. The shotgun was a Remington, a gift from his father. Howard periodically stopped and reached to his left, retrieving a machete with an oddly-crafted handle, the bright orange blade he loved swinging in all directions, carving a trail through the nothingness so he could press on. The trek was long and he occasionally stumbled, but Howard loved the way this type of freedom felt.

Walking for hours on end, making his own conduit with utensils he specifically chose for the moment, the journey only accessible through cutting and sweat and sometimes bleeding for progress, the overgrowth and the climbing and the treacherous footing making Howard's return seem mad in some respects and obsessive in others. Howard was a man possessed, and barely noticed any of the snags or scrapes or incidents where he had to slow. Ahead, there was a miracle. Incredulity thrown aside for a faith uniquely his own.

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