Fishing is a underappreciated art. The act of casting a line and relaxing with some music while reeling in a few fish and throwing them back was a hobby not suited for most without the patience or knowledge. At least that's how you justify yourself as you arrive at the local swamp the only male for miles to do a little reeling and dealing. All the essentials were in your hand a fishing rod, some spare lines and some summertime tunes on a phone to keep your mind at ease as you move deeper and deeper into the musky damp swamp.
As the soft spoken words of "drift away" follow you as you reach deeper into the swamp another sound eclipses those tunes. You expected some bugs buzzing around or even the croaks of a few frogs but it seemed like a sympathy of kisses were swarming around. Wet sloppy ones by the sound of it matching the wet sloppy environment that you choose to surround yourself in. It was weird enough that most would turn back then and then but betting on it being just a weird wave from a local hole of water or the wind was safe enough especially as the kissing sound effects faded away.
After a few minutes of waddling through some downright dirty swamp land a big enough lake showed itself smack in the middle of the place and what's more fish were literally jumping out of the waters. With the splashes those guppies were making you should've brought a net instead of a rod. Alas a rod is what you had as you sit down on a log and cast the line ready to forget all your troubles and fish. Of course troubles have a unique way of coming back even recent ones revolving around the act of kissing.
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