Flaneur

By NickMog

Fish

The fish was old. He had swum in the lake for more than sixty years. But he was a lot older than that. A long time ago, he had swum to the cold end of the lake, where the glacier puts its toe into the water. The water had grown cold and viscous and it had frozen. And the fish had frozen with it. When the waters eventually warmed, the fish had begun swimming again with no sense of the many years that had passed. And now the fish is hunted by the great-great-grandchildren of the people who had hunted it before.

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