Oh, by the way. If anyone finds 3 Mirrordines, 2 Skitterwalks (one pearl and one redfish pattern), two black/chartreuse Zara Spooks and two pairs of very expensive "Fit-Over" sunglasses floating somewhere in the vicinity of where the IR makes it's way into the Patillo Creek area, "THEY ARE MINE". In a case of "snook fever" often confused for due to extremely similar symptoms, I quickly exited the shore, crossed chest high water (with a two foot-deep crossing merely yards away, and made my way to an island where I could fight said fish without being wrapped around the only mangrove bush for hundreds of yards. During the frantic crossing all said lures (attached poorly to my Shady Brady hat as well as two pairs of the glasses that I was writing a review on, did this funny freak of nature thing and floated from my rear pocket and have not returned home. I would not mind giving you back the items, I just need to actually use them briefly so I can actually put pen to paper and write words that are honest and not made up.

I should have been dead years ago after 40-years of near drownings, deeply embedded fish hooks, (some in an area I choose not to speak of), knife wounds, snake bites, alligator bites, falls from culverts into just inches of water (this is why I believe I was reincarnated as me after a life of a circus pony, diving from unknown heights into a wading pool.) Okay, enough of trying to make you laugh, the worst part of this whole damn story is it's all true. Believe me friends. Truth is much, much stranger than fiction. I could not make this stuff up.

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.