I was getting out of the truck, grabbing my poles, adjusting left-over brisket, and doing the fond farewell act. Noonish on Saturday.
The remark was addressed to me and the cat.
Started long before the winter’s sun was up.
“Here it is, the first weekend in November, and you’re wearing shorts?”
Been nice and warm lately, and seemed like the thing to do. The old bank building was reading 68 degrees. Kind of a special weekend, too – first weekend of dear season.
Fished, had a blast, got a picture.
About the author:
Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.
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