Jace:
The river had always known how to quiet my head. It didn't care who was winning races. Didn't care who was lying. Didn't care who the city blamed. The tide came in. The tide went out. Simple. Steady. I sat at the end of the old dock behind my shack, bare feet dangling over the weathered boards. The coffee can rested beside me. Half full of Catawba worms. I still smiled every time I looked at it. The little boy had been right. They made damn good bait. I'd already caught two catfish and thrown them both back. The third nibble tugged gently at my line.
I leaned forward. "Easy..." The cork bobber danced once. Twice. Then disappeared beneath the surface. "There you are." I lifted the rod. A small bass broke the surface, fighting harder than something its size had any business fighting.
