Chapter Nine - Chemistry
Michael
I have decided that I love fishing. As long as I don’t have to touch the worm, or the fish. Yes, I can rip out my enemy’s throat with my own teeth, but please, do not give me anything slimy and squirmy. Lucky for me, William patiently took over those parts, with a little good-natured ribbing. I caught a few more fish, funny little flat-sided fish that William called “pumpkinseeds”. He took them off my hook and then set them back in the water to swim away, hopefully no worse for the wear.
William brought in two big bass, that he declared as keepers, and a couple of smaller fish that he called “yellow perch” and one tiny pumpkinseed the size of a gold fish. “Wait, wait! I need a photo with this trophy fish!” he laughed, and he made me take his pho
