He used to cast his words indifferently,

random forays into random pools in

hopes of a nibble. Now, he selects

his bait with care – a metaphorical

jig, an alliterative spoon, a methodically

tied fly well-placed into the heart of

the brook. There, he sets the hook

with practised hand, reeling in

a string of gleaming tales

to recount at tomorrow’s camp-fire.