I was down to the shoreline crabbing and it wasn’t so good. When the water murks up like that the crabs stay away. Ones that wash up dead ain’t worth the trouble. Nobody I know ever eat one, but you hear the stories about what happens. That’s enough warning for me.

I saw that man with a gunny wade in up to his thighs and toss the sack far as he could. He was in a hurry to leave. I could see that sack moving like it was alive.

Soon as the man was gone I waded in after it.


Friday Fictioneers

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