We would crack open some beers and have our dinner, not thinking about how those Sundays were flowing past us, steadily and irretrievably, like the current of the river.
|34thParallel Magazine||Dec 21, 2019|
I peered into its placid, bulging eyes. I knelt by the water’s edge, feeling the mud seeping through the knees of my jeans. I gently lowered the fish into the water and released my grip.
CATFISH BY JOE GRECO
Ray and I swim deep in the dark water, our soft bellies gently skimming the silt of the riverbed. I hear only the…