for Reid Prichett, who shared his dream
When I was a kid, I wanted to be the world’s greatest fisherman. Leave behind the dazzle of the modern world and row out to the middle of still water, hold a worm between my fingers, the ends of its body coiling around my thumb as I load it onto a barbed hook. Cast the line long, the plunk barely makes a splash.
Sense the tap on the line.
Pull the fish into my net, and yank it out of the water. Estimate its weight--impressive. Hold the firm flesh wriggling in my grip. Watch it struggle, the eye rotating in the socket. Count the seconds between the pulse of the gills. Know that I am the world’s greatest fisherman.
Instead, I became a teacher.
exhale. . .
on the abacus