“What was the point of that story, anyway? You didn’t think I would believe any of it for a second, did you?”
Fletcher shrugged. “Entertainment. In case you didn’t notice, there isn’t much to do here.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Days. Or minutes. Time is getting slippery. I’m not happy about it. I was always very well aware of the passage of time. Before the flip I always knew what was going on. Now I have no clue. Less than no clue. I really hate it.”
“Did you see any of the others?”
“No. But I wasn’t kidding about the fish. I caught many early on. With my hands. They just came up to the boat. Bite size. Just dropped them down my throat. They have the same color as the worms. Maybe a different stage of their development? Who knows.”
He didn’t say it, but I heard it anyway, the fin
