It all falls into place now.'” “Yeah, there we go,” Simon says, quietly. He turns to look at me. “So, what's your excuse for the white socks?�...� Suddenly he is back, back to the mischievous imp I am growing attached to. “I don't have an excuse. They're designer socks, they happen to be white and they look cool with my trainers.” I like white socks, I like socks in general. I wouldn't be seen dead wearing no socks and Superman slippers, I hate my bare feet. “Right, designer! Which one?” I get the. I sense she is awake. After a few moments, she turns. Her lips eagerly seek mine… – – – – – – – – – – Fish are popping the water. It is about an hour past dawn. ‘Jen, wake up, the fish are biting.’ We stagger into shirts, boots, and jeans. Jen wakes up Beth. Soon we are casting for black and sand bass. Jim Ed starts the coffee. A couple of hours later, three full stringers are at the river’s edge. Jen and Beth hike off to have their morning sit down. I grab Beth’s not too well hidden cell.. More

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