Bait

I’ve tried all kinds of bait in the past: worms, fish, murder, sex, jealousy, and revenge, but so far none have worked. So today I bait my hook with an image that I bought from a small fishing shack at the end of the promenade. Slowly I introduce the image to the hook. Sensing its fate, the image wriggles as I push it slowly onto the hooked metal, sending pink and white goop squirting onto my fingers. Satisfied the image is hooked I rest my rod and take a moment before casting. To my left is an ice-cream stall with a number of people eating 99’s and ice-lollies on deck chairs. Several power walkers pass by clutching bottles of water. Ahead, the blue sea twinkles. Further down the promenade a young mother applies sun-cream to a wriggling child. Kids run past me heading toward the pier and the amusement arcades that promise everything but gives nothing. My stomach rumbles. The image has stopped wriggling now. I cast the image into the sea and rest my rod onto the rusty promenade railings. I sit back in my chair and pray. I must get a bite. I must eat today.

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