The Food Waits
The hook hits the water with an audible plot, and the lure sinks beneath the surface quickly. The water is dark and ominous, but a comfort nonetheless. It's a sanctuary, quiet and still, untouched yet by the bugs that will skim the surface with the rising sun, and the birds that will come hungrily looking for the foolish minnows they bring. In the pale light that illuminates the sky, the peaceful lull in between the night and the day, there's an unparalleled calm, and all the beasts collectively breathe in deeply the brief coexistence. Creatures stir, taking advantage of the night's gifts, readying for the coming dawn. There's the gentlest breeze kissing the water's surface, stirring the lingering haze and making the ripples dance to its tune. It's tranquil. For most.
