The Golden Ribbon


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.


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

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