Page 13 - RIFFLE4-flip

P a g e | 12 Heavy clouds smothered the skies with a brooding darkness. A rumble of thunder boomed in the distance. The tap, tap, tap of raindrops on the windows indicated even more rain had arrived. They grew louder as they began to pound at the glass in a ferocious torrent, running down the windowpanes in ever- growing streams. The angler sat back on his sofa and peered out of the window at the relentless rain. It had been several days now since the storms had begun and there hardly seemed to be any respite in the weather. He was relaxed, nevertheless. He sipped his mug of tea and blew out a slow breath. His mind wandered. He was ablaze with tantalising possibilities. This was the at the river. It was swollen and angry, a bait. It was perfect. maelstrom of foaming, spewing water. Branches and debris were swept along in the powerful After a long day at work, he eventually retired embrace of the river. It was too soon. Another for the evening. Excitement coursed through his day or two and she would be ready. veins. He could barely sleep. He knew something special was going to happen tomorrow. He just He retired to bed to dream, such sweet knew it. After a restless night, he stretched and dreams. The following day he arose early. As he yawned the tiredness away. The kettle burst drew back the curtains, sunlight streamed in into life with a flick of the switch and the smell through the opening, lighting up the bedroom of toast filled his nostrils. The coffee hit the spot with a glorious exuberance of colour. At last the and he felt awake and vitalized. He was weather had broken. The storms had finally ready. He poured the hot water into his relented. He switched the kettle on and popped favourite flask and popped it in his bag with his some bread into the toaster. As he sat at the lunch. Hopefully there would not be too much breakfast table, looking out across the fields, he time to eat, he thought. knew she was nearly ready. He would try tomorrow, if the weather held. A spotted The car was packed and he was on his way. The woodpecker caught his eye and disturbed his river was not far and yet his expectation was at reverie as it hammered at the peanuts on the such a heightened state of arousal it seemed to bird feeder. It was a good omen, he decided. take forever. Each bend seemed to lead to endless others as his journey progressed. He was The river would be high and coloured, and the desperately hoping there would not be any banks thick with cloying mud. He would have to crowds at the river today. He had a few spots in tread carefully. He opened a couple of tins of mind and would be very disappointed to see luncheon meat, breaking off large irregular them occupied by some usurper. The lay-by was lumps. He took a plastic bag and blew some empty. His luck was in. He hurriedly grabbed the warm air into it. He put in several teaspoons of tackle from the car and dumped it over the his secret spicy powder mix and then dropped in gate. He checked the car was locked, popped on the chunks of meat. He rolled them around in his faithful hat and climbed over the stile. the bag, to cover them with the magical ingredients. He opened the bag and took a deep, There she was - the river. The water was still nasal breath. The aroma set his olfactory senses high and coloured as it lapped a foot from the