This all consuming obsession to pursue her majesty has been ongoing for over a year. Attempts at satisfaction targeting subsidiary species cannot quell my thirst for another frenzied engagement.
My foe possesses intellect and prehistoric barbaric rage. As I sense the incoming blow from her strike, I drive my hook home into her substantial jowl, she releases herself from the aquatic world and repeatedly dances in the darkness. She digs deep, burning adrenaline running through both our veins. Line sizzles off the spool at a frantic pace. I am in this moment, the ultimate high, my entire reality focused on this oceanic adversary. I feel nothing but the fish, my line, the pressure on the rod, the waves splashing along the kayak’s hull. I’m being hauled into the inky horizon. A plunge into the unknown.
We trade blows and I win this battle, her wearied frame slides along side mine. The eyes glow with an abyssal redness in my spot light. So alien. I free her from the hook and begin the resuscitation, pedaling against the tide, filling her lungs with oxygen. She shakes and releases. She’s gone.
