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Writer's pictureClint Haugen

A Fish Story

The fish was sleeping in his bed in his hole that he had dug at the bottom of the lake. He was a bass and digging holes was how they made their little homes. It had been 4 years since he had dug this hole for him and his ex-girlfriend—3 years since she left him for a bass with a bigger mouth and a better hole. He told himself that he liked his humble little hole, and that he didn’t mind being alone in life; in fact, he told himself that he wanted to be alone. That he preferred it this way. 

It had been a hot and dry summer, and the temperature of the water was much warmer than his previous 16 years in this lake. Bass will hangout at the bottom of the lake—in the coldest parts of it—when the temperature of the water spikes like it had. 

Without the rain to wash in more food, they had to risk going up to the surface to search for it. Many fish went missing when they visited the surface and no one knew where they went. Some returned with insane stories about being plucked out of this universe and taken to another one by giant pink worms with eyes, arms and legs; but with the food shortage, and the increased temperature, more fish were risking going to the surface. More went missing. More came back with insane stories. 

Salamanders floated up the surface to take a breath every ten minutes, but the fish believed that their brains had been fried from lack of oxygen, so most of the fish didn’t believe the stories they reported from their quick glimpses to the surface. 

Crawdads fought furiously for food.

The Catfish would eat anything, but there were only a few of them still living in this lake. 

Bluegill used to live by the dock in the hundreds but they had slowly died out, and now there weren’t any left. That was okay to him, though; he thought the Bluegill were pretty annoying fish. He wasn’t proud of the prejudice, but it was just the way things were. 

A few fish had reported giant blue herons swooping up the smaller bass. And the salamanders said that there was a bald eagle nest near there now and they were paying the lake a visit almost every day. 

No one believed them. 

The bass that this story is about was just opening his eyes when a worm landed on his head. It startled him and then slowly floated right in front of his face. He opened his giant mouth, and without thinking—only paying attention to his fatigue and hunger—he swallowed the worm. 

A shooting pain immediately shot through his mouth and he was violently pulled upwards. He had some fight in him, though, and he raged against the pulling. Pain filled his head. His mouth felt as if it was ripping open. He felt his fear. He felt his panic. And made a dive for the algae bed next to him. The pull lessened but the metal hook was still in his mouth. 

What the hell is going on??

He felt a slight tug on his mouth and dived deeper into the weeds. 

Then he saw it, a clear string attached to the hook. 

That’s what’s pulling me around! It’s strong, stronger than I am. Shit. Shit. Shit. What should I do??

And then a giant shadow blocked out the sun above him. A giant rectangle floated up on top of the surface. 

Is it a dock?? No, docks can’t move like that. What is it??

He saw that the string was coming from the giant shadow. He panicked and dove again. 

The pain was almost unbearable now. He tried not to pass out from it. He tried to keep fighting. He tried to live. But the string was too strong, and he slowly started to get pulled up closer to the shadow. 

The stories were real . . . There are things that live above the surface. Is there another universe up there? Were the salamanders telling the truth this entire time??

He kept fighting, but the string kept inching him closer to the shadow. A giant net came down and scooped him up, and he broke the surface of the water. He couldn’t see anything except a blinding light. It hurt his eyes and he had to close them tight. Then he noticed that he couldn't breathe. He tried too, but was met with nothing. He tried again, and again, nothing happened. He started flopping and gasping for air. 

A strange voice—in a language that he couldn’t understand—echoed across the entire surface of the lake. 

“It’s a monster!! Get the scale! I think I broke the record!! 5 pounds 6 ounces?! Holy shit! Quick, take a few pictures!”


CH 8/824

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