Hooper Brook Pond

Hooper Brook Pond

Paddle out into the reservoir of creativity!

Blank

Sal I told you to put that damn camera away.

Don’t be such a fuss Blank.

I’m telling you, I need you to be watching out. You heard what they said about the Reservoir.

“Oh C’mon Sal. That’s some stupid shit and you know it.”

“Well, I’d rather….what the hell was that?”

“What?”

“Your camera. Take your camera and point it out that way. Use the zoom. The zoom.”

“I don’t know how to use the zoom.”

 

And that’s when it happened. You can read a thousand reports on tension rates, and the scraping of corn and mule’s feet, but they’ll never tell you about the crunch.

I lost you…sorry, this is a different part of the story. Or the same story, just later on. I’m Sal, and Blank, well Blank took a 30/30 round to the chest. Died on impact and fell into the black reservoir. What a mess.

He sank like a rock and the beavers carried him 300 meters downstream. The cops, U.S. Marshals, Homeland, I’ve even heard the FBI were looking for him. They found his body two weeks later wrapped up in a beaver dam.

The shot?

Nobody knows. I was there and I don’t what happened. Not sad really. Just quick.

There were five of us at his funeral.

One guy was watching America’s Most Wanted on his smartphone. ‘

Can you believe that?

You can watch whatever TV shows you want with your cell phone these days.

Man, I remember trying to tune Nova on a bad set of rabbit ears like it was yesterday.

4G.

Amazing. I suppose there’s Mars, too. I wonder if Blank had the choice….to be shot in the chest and be turned into kindling by a bunch of beavers, or go to Mars, alone, and have to stay there until he died. Which one would he have chosen?