Issue 65 - Sick Leave

With few exceptions, most of us are forced to fit our fishing around the daily grind. If I could spend half the hours fishing that I did working, I would be a happier, saner man. The world of gainful employment has us all in its thrall, however, and most afternoons my fishing takes place only in daydreams. Scenic lakes and dipping floats are imagined during coffee breaks, between noisy English lessons, during traffic jams.There is always the thought that, far from the tepid coffee, junk emails and looming deadlines, the water is exactly as you left it, serene and inviting. Whilst I am filling in reports, tench are bubbling in the margins. As I’m talking to the boss, the bass are prowling the rocks and brown trout are rising on the stream. But these are idle dreams that can’t escape a universal truth; someone has to crack the whip,
someone has to shovel the shit.

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