I was losing blood fast. The setting sun dipped just behind the tree-tops, blanketing the shallow, weed-choked cove in shade. Then, as if someone flipped a switch, I was swarmed by mosquitoes so terribly that I had to wipe—not swat—them off my arms and the back of my neck. It was a stagnant 90 degrees, and every inch of exposed skin was slathered in sweat and squished bugs, but I couldn’t leave. I’d paddled all the way back to this spot hoping that the fading light would entice a snakehead bigger than the ones I’d caught earlier to move up onto this flat so thick—with muck and duckweed and lilies—that you could barely tell there was any water.
I purposely overthrew, landing a red-and-black frog in the tall grass on the…
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Game & Fish East (Digital) - 1 Issue, June/July 2024