Advertisement

fishing

at the salmon cowboy a found letter

At the Salmon Cowboy: A Found Letter

I fear that by the time you read this . . . it will be too late. Forgive me, Vanessa. I am so sorry. As you are reading this, your fiancé is lost—caught in an act of obsessive compulsion that I, too, have fallen into. There was no malice in …

At the Salmon Cowboy: A Found Letter Read More »

family roots

Family Roots

Grandpa Cobalt hated letting things go. Whether it was the wobbly chair he kept in his study or his favorite warped record he fed to the gramophone—looping the same groove over and over. He was a tall man with a frosty thin hairline and a nose capable of the most …

Family Roots Read More »

Dead Boats

I worked a shrimp boat called the Melissa on the gulf. Hot, sweaty work but all the shrimp you can eat, so there’s that. Captain Mike was my boss, a wizened old salt. Rough around the edges, but a good man and a good boss. I worked with him out …

Dead Boats Read More »

The Big One

The competitors of the thirtieth annual “Super fish” tournament sponsored by the Angler Warehouse could not have asked for a better day; seventy-five degrees and not a cloud in the sky.  The competition was open to just about every type of fish that Lake Michigan had to offer, but when several large Pumpkinseeds or Rock Carp counted the same as an average sized Sturgeon or Catfish, the fishermen were always on the hunt for “the big one.”

Scroll to Top