Just a couple of paragraphs from my story. Sorry Nicky this is as much as a ‘freebie’ as you’re going to get.
The only sign of life this early was a light from Jericho Jake’s Bait Shop. The owner was Tom Jacobs, and he’d run the place for the past 10 years. He hadn’t bothered to change the name of the shop because it had been around so long under that name that not even the old timers remembered why it was named Jericho Jake’s, and nobody named Jake had owned it for at least 50 years. The building itself hadn’t changed much over the years. The open sign was now neon instead of piece of cardboard, and there was a brand new cooler full of beer and sodas, but the tanks full of minnows and the ancient refrigerator holding assorted worms and leeches were the same. There were a couple of windows, one with a shelf to serve customers so they didn’t have to enter the building, and a screen door that slammed shut numerous times during the day, and once inside the fishy smell assaulted your nose as the lone ceiling fan circled lazily overhead.
This wasn’t one of the fancy box stores they kept talking about putting up. You could buy your bait, and the basics for fishing such as bobbers, hooks, sinkers, and a small selection of lures. You could fill your cooler with drinks or rent one of the boats tied up to the docks just outside for an hour or a day, but what really brought people in was the talk. Fishermen came in to brag about the one that got away. Newcomers to the lake swore they would be the one to catch Miss Fossie the lake monster, or at least get a good picture of the beast. City folks came in, sniffed at the lack of sunscreen and bug spray, and left with their noses in the air.