The Golden Ribbon

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A young lady was talking to me. We were standing, underneath the dimmed Ochre light, waiting for the bus bound to Northhanger. She was telling me of a fable about her brother, a dog, a river and fishes. I barely understood her, perhaps she is telling me she like to fish. I never liked that sport.

My father took me once on a fishing trip, t’was the summer of 86′. I had to wear a vest, pinned upfront is a badge with bold letters of “FLY FISHING” and a drawing of a fish striking the words in the middle. We sat on a tiny boat, rocking the hours away for one trout that we took home and ate that day. My old man said we are lucky, I thought of that trip was a waste of one day of my summer. I never went fishing again and it was the only fishing trip I’ve ever been. My father died, October of 1986.

I looked at the young lady before me, again she was babbling non-sense. She pulled out between her fingers a ribbon of golden material, tugged it and whoosh! came a rumble. A tidal of water came rushing, tracking and gobbling the street where we stand. Visibly leaping from the waves are fishes of colors and sizes. Among the racing fishes is a giant trout with bulging eyes of blue, he was heading towards my direction.

I went down on my knees, braced myself from the impact, I waited. There was nothing. No water engulfing me, no fishes and giant trout eyes. I wondered why I was kneeling. I stood up thinking of fishing this summer and waited for the bus, alone, under the Ochre light of the street lamp.

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Commission Fan Art for Bernard Llanto, Delirium from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman Comics.

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