The Fishing Game.

When I was aged between ten and twenty five, one of my favourite occupations was fishing. I would go to a lake or river, throw some groundbait into the water in the hope that it would encourage the fish to feed, cast out a baited line, and wait. And wait…

Sometimes I would sit there all day, with ne’er so much as a quiver to disturb the stillness of the float. Though such an occupation might sound tedious, there was mystery contained therein. I had no way of knowing whether the fish were there but not hungry, there but too cautious, or not there at all. Fish live in a hidden world, and the mystery made fishing both fun and frustrating in more or less equal measure.

Writing e-mails to some people is remarkably similar. Ah, but just occasionally, I see a little group of bubbles breaking on the surface…