Seaside Warf

The hand held flashlights are more for the comfort of light than the necessitates of vision. The Warf’s trail is a well worn friend to the shadowed figures, Billy and Willie. Life long pals, the wharf had met them as Billy Jr., and Willie, known both as William for a time, and joined their retirement as Billy and Willie. They greeted her with light footfalls on her old wooden planks and climbed into the tiny row boat.

“Not a bad night, William.”
“Not a bad night, Bill.”

Salt thick air and tranquil waters are a cure for the mind. Golden silence found in the roll of waves, splash of oars, and a background of seaguls and fog horns in the darkness. Willie and Billy traded turns between row and tackle duties as they guesstimated the best spot to cast a line. Not a word was spoken between the pair till their bobbers were in the water and the dreams of big fish swam into their consciousness.

“Tonight is the night, Willie”
“What makes you say that, Billy?”
“I have a gut feeling.”
“Like the gut feeling about the Pats.”
“Exactly my point. Boston is not a town for perfection.”
“The shot heard around the world was pretty prefect.”
“Perfect, the shot heard round the world was shot from a dropped musket. I don’t know how perfect that is.”
“That is one of your problems. Sure, some fool dropped his musket but it sparked the revolution. You have to see the forest from the trees, my friend.”
“Forest from the trees, I would like to see, fish in this boat.”

Billies’s fishing rod jerked against his grip. His eyes lit up and basic instinct took over. He played with the line and pictured the lure as it danced for it’s pray in the dark depths below. Suddenly, the reel spun out of control.

As the beach grew closer, a great bill crested the ocean’s surface followed by a fur covered body bigger than a battle ship.

“She’s a big one, Willie”

Billie pulled against the side of the boat. His heels planted against the planks of wood. He fought with his might but the line would not give.

“Eat your heart out, Hemingway, we have got a Marlin.” Billy said. His head filling with the riches that a big marlin would bring in.

“Don’t go fooling around now, Billy. Just reel her in nice and steady.”

The fishing line was taunt and both men could feel the boat moving towards shore. Both men grabbed a hold of Billie’s pole and pulled. As the beach grew closer, a great bill crested the ocean’s surface followed by a fur covered body bigger than a battle ship. Billy and Willie both lost their grip on the fishing pole as a giant monster rose from the depths of Davie Jones’s locker.

“What the heck is that thing?” Willie said.
“It looks like a duck billed platypus.” Billy said.
“Well that is redundant.”
“A giant duck billed platypus from the ocean is redundant?”
“No, DUCK BILLED is redundant. All Platypus have duck bills.”
“We are touching upon all your problems, tonight, aren’t we?”
“At least I still have my pole, Billie”

Platypus vs. City