It’s 11:30 PM, and sleep eludes me. I get up quietly and step outside into the cool night air. Walking to the nearby lake, I find it serene, with a few people fishing under the dim light of streetlamps reflecting off the water.
The air is cold, the light rain falling steadily. At the fishing spots, some men stand silently, watching their hooks and the starlit water. They carefully pitch their bait, then wait patiently, hoping for a fish to bite, the stillness broken only by the gentle splash of the water.
Coffee and cigarettes are loyal companions to fishermen. The warmth from each sip of coffee and the calming drag of a cigarette help them endure the cold, offering moments of comfort as they wait patiently, eyes fixed on the water.
The wind blows slowly, biting into the air and adding to the cold. Despite the chill, a fisherman remains focused, his eyes fixed on the hook. He’s familiar with these weather conditions, knowing the patience required. With quiet confidence, he believes today will bring big catches. Catfish are abundant in these waters, and he’s certain one will bite soon, rewarding his wait with a prized catch.
On the way home, the street is quiet. The gate is closed, and the trees lining the road seem to whisper, urging everyone to sleep. The calmness of the night makes the world feel peaceful and still.
The night is getting colder. Most people prefer to lay on their bed and sleep. It is 1:00 in the morning.
⋆ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜᴛʜᴇᴀsᴛ ᴀsɪᴀɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴏɴ ʜɪᴠᴇ
⋆ sᴜʙsᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀsᴇᴀɴ ʜɪᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛʏ
⋆ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀsᴇᴀɴ ʜɪᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛʏ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀɪʟ
⋆ ᴅᴇʟᴇɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʟɪɴᴋs 25 ʜᴘ⇾50 ʜᴘ⇾100 ʜᴘ⇾500 ʜᴘ⇾1,000 ʜᴘ