Meet Cassie. All she wants in life is to get her feet wet, and perhaps a fish or two. Yes, she would really like fish. Do you have some?

The shark cruised the turquoise water, sunlight rippling through the waves to the soft sand below. A small school of silvery fish stirred up a cloud in the warm, shallow waters by the reef, but the shark turned away from them.
Dr. Pete Diggle checked the mail this morning, and he showed me a letter with a very interesting question…
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Crouched in the dappled shade of a gnarled cedar tree, Bowser inhaled a long, slow breath.
The bitter tang of oily sap that bubbled from a gash in the tree’s trunk.
The dusty heat from sun-baked rocks and chalky, clay-hardened soil.
The earthy spice of charcoal and wood smoke…and a sweetness so tantalizing he could almost taste it as the scent filled his sinuses. Continue reading
Gravel crunched under rubber as Pete pulled in to a stop a short way from the lake. With a turn of his wrist he shut off the ignition and tossed the keys on the console between the two front seats. He grabbed his hat and shoved it on his head as he shrugged open the door, and his heavy boots crunched on the gravel road.
It was a clear afternoon with a sky so deep a blue it looked almost painted, and Pete whistled a little tune as he shut the door, opened the passenger door, and reached into the back seat.
“You awake yet?” he asked, straining a little as he dragged out a large pet carrier. It lurched to the side with a squeal and a jingle, and Pete held it steady to keep it from ramming into the front seat.
Alluminum and plastic hinges creaked as Pete shifted in the canvas lounge chair, his long, sinuous legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His skin was warm in the sun, and the late morning rays looked red under his closed eyelids. A cool, salty breeze whispered through the swaying rustle of palm leaves. He sighed, his handlebar mustache curled in a smile under the broad-brimmed straw hat that shielded his face from the sun’s strongest rays.
Pretty please with cherries on top? Continue reading
Dr. Pete Diggle checked the mail this morning, and he showed me a letter with a very interesting question…
Continue reading
Heavy boots sank into the spongy soil as Pete walked up the riverbank. With a low grunt, he stepped up onto a large, twisted root of a cypress tree, and clambered out onto a gnarled root slope that jutted out over the slow moving water. He sat down slowly, careful not to squish his paper bag as he held onto the thick trunk for balance, and sat with his legs dangling over the dark green water below.