The Golden Catch
The bluefin was larger than Patrick O'Brien's forearm, and it was still fighting when he hauled it onto the deck of the little fishing boat. The sun had just crested the eastern horizon, painting the Long Island Sound in shades of copper and rose, and the air smelled of salt and diesel and the faint sweet rot of seaweed. Patrick was seventeen, lean from years of pulling nets and hauling lines,...
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