Fishing Rod

In an attempt to shake the dim cloud forming above my head, I brought the pole down to the stream knowing it was my only form of therapy. Feeling a tug after only a few minutes, I noticed my first victim was much smaller than the others. It was just trying to keep up. A redfin pickerel, one who wasn't ready for the real world. It called me back to my early years, being thrown into my future, never being able to return whence I came. I tossed him back into the water, knowing what it's like to be so lost.

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