This is probably how a fish feels, caught in a net. All around him, the lines of betrayal, lumped in with old boots and tin cans, plastic bottles, syringes and crill.
I imagine a sunfish Hamlet calling to the Gods, “How came I to be thus be-netted?”
This is probably how a fish feels, caught in a net. All around him, the lines of betrayal, lumped in with old boots and tin cans, plastic bottles, syringes and crill.
I imagine a sunfish Hamlet calling to the Gods, “How came I to be thus be-netted?”
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