The Green Stone_(3)
1: A fish starts it all It had been a long Saturday at the beach, not too hot, just nice and warm with a gentle breeze running on shore. I had been sitting, since six am and it was now lunchtime, on this flat rock fishing, and I had not had even a nibble at my bait. I was just thinking of packing my rod up and going home for some food when I heard the bell at the tip of my rod ring. A bite, at last, I thought, as I grabbed the rod and struck into what was at the far end of the line. I felt a fish moving on the line as I slowly reeled it towards the rocks. I thought that it seemed a big one as well from the …