“Old Fish, what should I do?”
Maggie wandered down to her childhood hiding place under a looming cottonwood tree, where the bend of Copper Kettle Creek created a calm eddy, perfect for contemplation.
She stared into the sun-flickered brownish depths, hoping for a glimpse of the legendary trout her brothers had spent many unsuccessful hours trying to catch. She had joined the game, claiming this spot as hers, but never baited her hook… Instead, she had long conversations with the huge fish she imagined suspended in the dark waters, ancient and wise.
She spoke, as she had so often then. “Old Fish, what should I do?â€Â