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he old man fished crayfish on the days when it didn’t rain and the ground was firm. He walked the mile or so from his house to the river bank, where he fished with a simple net and bait. In fact it wasn’t so much fishing as trapping. You just picked the right spot, laid the net and waited. Eventually the crayfish came. He found himself going fishing more frequently now that his wife was gone. He never took the crayfish home; he always put them back to catch the next day just to give himself something to do.
by Tony Healey
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