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An Elderly Man Sat Fishing On A Wooden Pier Until Three Young Men Approached Him

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and settled the rod in his hand and watched the float come to rest on the still surface of the lake.

The mist was beginning to lift. Across the water the far shore was becoming visible in outline, the dark mass of the far treeline separating itself from the gray sky. In an hour the light would be full and the lake would be the color of old pewter, and continue reading …

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