The Fisherman

The pool was calm that autumn day. Tumbling rainflow from previous hours had slowed to a trickle and the surface showed a gently turbulent image of the oaks around it. The fisherman stood near a fallen branch, frozen as if to the granite floor below, his dappled cloak ruffling in a mildly churning breeze. He knew not how long he had been surveying the expanse before him, reading the depths of the pool for the catch he knew was there.
Patience fell upon him like a mist. Further off, a soft shuffling of leaf litter announced the purposeful excavations of a boar, cracking the silence with muted knocks of hoof on rock. That was one way of reaching a goal, thought the fisherman, to wrench and dig and drag the prize from the rooted earth and sit steaming in the sunshine knowing the battle is done. But that was not his charge on this day. Today was forged for waiting.
Deep under the water, floating still amidst the reed stems, dreamed a solemn, silver fish. Stillness was her name, she dwelled in staring foresight.
Grunting, tearing, snarling uproar came from the hooded copse behind as boar and prey came face to face. And yet the fisherman was unmoved. The fight became a part of him; his role was as the watcher. Eyes fixed on water, he breathed in the clamour beyond. All was as it should be, though no outcome was secure.
The onslaught was accomplished; full-bellied boar lurched off through the beech-mast, and became a gentle memory, fading. Left behind was noiseless hush, which girdled the event to come.
Motionless, the fisherman summoned a veil of will, and claimed his contract with the pool. The air lay flat, and all around leaves on trees let go their chatter. Sunlight bathed the lonely pool as the fisherman made his quiet request.

She heard it clearly, lucid as she was, and prepared her acquiescence, for this was the law of the pool. Grant the petition, and thus a petition may be granted unto you. Gills stretching, flanks pulsing, she let slip her final sign. A shiny, dancing bubble came curling from her mouth. It weaved and shimmied and writhed its way, falling up to greet the watcher, bursting out with a rippled, empty cry.
Sudden, flashing, darting, the fisherman thrust under and grasped the twisting seeress. He lifted her, fin on scale, in his marvellous beak, and drank her down with resolve. The pool was steeped in shock; expanding wavelets miming evidence of the moment. A course of frenzied twitching, and she was part of him. Shifting his weight, he loosened his feet from the cloying mud, and stepped back a pace or more. Feathers primed, he opened his wings and pulled himself aloft, knotting the air with generous blows, and sailed off over the treetops.

Reviews

[Star-Runner]

I really like this write alot, this is just plain wonderful as well as the last one I read. Very well written.

[Done]

I really like your choice of words to describe the scene, albeit more advanced than I am used too. I found myself scrambling to picture what was going on. It's very well written. I especially love the twist. I found myself like other readers making the same assumptions about the fisherman only to be shocked by the fact I was wrong the whole time-but satisfied of the clarity.

Thanks for the read, it's fantastic. Well done!

[An Ordinary Woman]

Your writing still stirs in me a certain image of being being there, of being a part of something, almost as if I too am just here today, just to watch. I get lost in your smooth words. I love that about your writing. I really don't get to say that often enough. I've missed you.

[Narnie]

Blimey. It was a weird feeling as I was reading this. You almost became closed off in 'his' mind. I had to read some passages twice. At first I thought that he was the prey of the boar, but that was probably me not concentrating? Some of the word links in here are so poetic with rhythm and illusion. Amazing stuff.

You've made me feel horribly inadequate with a piece Ive been working on now, haha. I shall go back and try harder. Maybe thats part of what this place is about for me... taking inspiration from wonderful writing like yours.

[Emily B]

I am amazed by your stunning descriptions. Your images are beautiful. You completely surprised me with the fisherman's beak. I didn't see that coming.

[Raef C. Boylan]

You got me! Haha...a pelican, maybe? I made the old assumption "I am human, therefore this fisherman is too" and ya got me. Nice 'twist'.

So, bound by an unspoken law of nature, the fish let the bird catch her, as it was a more dignified ending than being torn and dragged by the boar?

"The pool was steeped in shock; expanding wavelets miming evidence of the moment. A course of frenzied twitching, and she was part of him. Shifting his weight, he loosened his feet from the cloying mud, and stepped back a pace or more. Feathers primed, he opened his wings and pulled himself aloft, knotting the air with generous blows, and sailed off over the treetops." - this is a really wonderful passage (just one example amongst many).

Glad to see the writing has made its way back to you.
Thanks for sharing this with me; i enjoyed reading it and visualising all your imagery.

p.s.
I suggest swapping this comma for a semicolon:

"Stillness was her name, she dwelled in staring foresight."

[Nicole (Carpe Diem)]

lots of images, i can see the story unravel in my head as i read through the paragraphs... nicely done