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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Friendship · #2256752
A short story about friends and fishing.
The afternoon sun reflected almost perfectly off the murky water and the silver-toned pebbles at the bank, yet the light in her eyes and the strength of his smile were not overpowered. As she smiled for a picture, he held the fishing rod so that she could hold the whole lot of the catch in her own hands.

“I’ll be Jessie! I guess this means I get to cook?”

“I’ll handle that, too, if you don’t mind! I’m gonna fry just one and bake the rest.”

“Fry, just one?”

“Just the one! I like to bake MY fish. These are My fish after all?!”

“I suppose they are, ma’am. But I rowed the boat for ya. It’s hard for a man to row and hold a pole.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she said with a wide smile, “and so I’m gonna fry you one of these to show my appreciation for your specific skill.”

‘Well—I’m really just awful gad I got to come. Beats any day in a mill or a field!”

“That it does!” “Now, she paused, “what say you and I do this again?”

“I sure like the sound of that.”

“It’s a date, then!”

“We can’t call it that now can we?” he said, tilting his head slightly and shaking it side to side.

She turned her head slightly in the opposite direction and nodded, emphatically. “We can call it whatever you’d like. Truth is, we’re good friends, Jones. And everyone from my Daddy to your sisters know that!”

“Reckon so?”

“They know I’ve always been fond of you!”

“I s’ppose they see I’m just as fond of you then?”

“That they might,” she replied, gleaming. “Next Sunday, then?”

“Saturday work? I can’t miss too much church— ‘less the devil his self come for me!”

“Well, he’d get himself in a bit of a fight, wouldn’t he? I think I can handle that ole devil!”

“You might can, Jessie Lynn!”

“Saturday it is, Jones! But won’t you come for supper? You can pick any one of the fish you want!”

“I like baked fish alright. As long as it’s done. I’m sure that sister of mine’s already started cookin’ something, no doubt!” He hesitated…” How ‘bout we do super Saturday next. We’ll fish all day and fry em’ all evening. I’ll even cook!”

“Well, we can fry them if you catch them! I still want a baked one!”

“Baked. Fried. We’ll just fish for ‘em and then fill up on ‘em, how ‘bout it? As long as it’s a mess that’s fillin’?”

“I guess you’d better practice your rowing and holding skills then!”

“Let’s just fish from the bank next time?”

“We can do that! I could barely keep in the boat this time! Saturday at 7, then?”

“Sunrise it is!” “Oh, wait—How you gonna clean all them fish?”

“I’ve got brothers and Daddy to help, especially for a fish supper.”

“Alright then. See you soon!”

“Soon? I hope! Saturday can’t come soon enough.”

“It’ll come when it comes. And I’ll be waitin’ right here with two poles!”

“Good evening, Jones!”

“Good day to you, Jessie Lynn!”

The waved goodbye and each took off, walking separate ways along the river’s edge.
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