Spending the night on the side of the lake

I feel the wind blow, bringing a chill that cuts through the air. The water glistens under the streetlight, reflecting its soft glow. It's not rain, but the cold seeps into my bones, reminding me of the quiet, crisp night.

Some fishermen gather around, waiting for the starlight on their hooks to shake. I started preparing my bait, carefully threading it onto the hook. With a steady hand, I pitched it into the water, hoping for a bite under the silent sky.

The food sellers have packed up and gone home, leaving only a few behind. A slow, uneven melody plays in the distance, accompanied by a bad, off-key voice that disturbs my ear. I try to ignore it, but the noise lingers, making the quiet night feel uneasy.

A big tree stands tall, dark like a giant. The quiet around it feels thick, almost heavy, as if the night itself is watching.

I run from the tiresome of the day, seeking solace in the stillness of the water. It’s not the fish I chase, but the peace that comes with each cast of the hook. The cool air calms my mind as I hold the hook in my hand, feeling the gentle pull of nature, the weight of silence, and the quiet that fills the space between each breath.

I cast my line into the water, feeling the peaceful rhythm of fishing. Each moment brings a sense of contentment, the simple joy of being still, waiting, and enjoying the quiet. Happy fishing.