escape: part two...

i painted my toe-nails on the deck as the sun went down... watched a muskrat scamper in and out of the water... who knows what he was searching for...

as i sat on the bow of the queen m -- a 30-year-old green and beige speed boat with character -- i felt like i was worlds away from home... no cell phone reception, and that was fine... the wind struck my face and the air felt oh so clean... the water lurked with seaweed and seemed to never end... while wading in its depths, a little fish mistook me for lunch... "asshole" i exclaimed as the little sucker pinched my underarm... fish food, i ain't...

my eyes couldn't help but get heavy under the mid-day sun... the sound of crickets and loons were about the only audio traffic to deal with... beers and sandwiches were the perfect boat picnic... grapefruit martinis became a staple for cocktail hour...

for an afternoon i was a fisherman... scratch that -- a fisherwoman... weapon of choice: a fishing rod that had seen better days and casts, and a fishhook fed with a small piece of fleshy pink-toned plastic... the small-mouthed bass i had my eye on were none the wiser to my synthetic bait... the first flipped in the air and i couldn't bring myself to grab the slimy guy, wriggle the hook and set him free... but practice made perfect and by the end of an hour i was one-upping myself with bigger catches each time... sure, they weren't meal-worthy, but also weren't intended to be... i developed a routine of catching them, providing them with an air kiss and then setting them back into their watery habitat...

their scales were slick and gooey... their dorsal fins poked my tender palms... the smell would barely come off my hands... i felt like a kid again...