Down the Fish Hole

Greg stood there on the boat, one hand holding the light meter’s digital readout, the other holding the light meter over the side. “There’s more light on the bottom than there is on the top.”

“It’s just screwy, Greg. We’ll have to call it a day until we can get the Bulb-O-Matic fixed.” Yvette held out her hand, waiting for the over-eager intern to hand her back the instrument. But now Greg was leaning over the edge of the boat, face mere inches from the water.

“No! There’s something glowing down there. I can see it!” The young girl took a step toward Greg. But it was a tiny boat and she merely ended up tripping over his feet and tumbling into the water. Surfacing, she spit the nasty water out of her mouth and prepared to lay into the clumsy in-the-way intern.

“Toss me a life jacket!” By now it was too late. Something had latched onto her foot. And it was sucking her down. Holding her breath, Yvette prepared to fight to live. But the fight never came.

She awoke on a beach. A beach with a bright green sun.

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