Feeding the Fish

We were in a place where mountains descended directly into a vast lake.  Perhaps an ocean.  We stood at the shore of a small bay with a rocky beach.  The bay was little more than a slot opening in thick evergreens trees and underbrush.  Waves rolled against the stones in an unceasing rhythm.

Here’s a strange thing.  There were two of us, but I cannot be sure exactly who the other person was.  I have the vague impression it was that girl.

I was close to the water and had something in my hand.  I am not sure exactly what I held in my hand, but it was no bigger than a mouse and fish would eat it. 

I stepped within a few inches of the waves and held the thing in my hand out in an effort to attract fish.  I had in my mind that fish would most certainly be attracted.

After no more than a few seconds, an incoming swell appeared in the water before me.

A school of small fish pushing to shore?

One big fish coning into collect the thing from me?

I jiggled the thing in my hand.

The swell reached the shore.  A big, dark form lay under the swell.  Upon reaching the shallows, the dark shape leapt up and became a half-ton grizzly bear lunging at me.

I fell back with a gasp and woke in bed with the red light from my digital clock falling cross my face.  The clock displayed 4:33 (mountain grizzly time?).

Definitely time to get up.

—Mitchell Hegman