Like a long comatose yawn, it was stretching from this side of the road to the shore. Starting slender, bulging in the middle , allowing the stream to have a slow tango with the waves that have lost their way on the sand, and then continuing to the sea in it's slender form .
In the water there they were , ankle deep, bent, their faces almost touching surface. Two boys and a girl. Scanning the water for one more fish. New brood of fry hatched in brackish water, escaping to the ocean , where they will grow , mate and die.
Catching them in their cupped bare palms and collecting them in their pails.
"Look look , fish" they were showing off.
They were just collecting them in their plastic buckets, not having the slightest of clue what to do with them. Like most of us, collecting just for the sake of collecting, ( many a things; money, friends , enemies, cravings, needs) they were too.
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