Sinopsis

The first tug on the line came a half hour before dawn. Hank Wilson had been sitting in his fold-out beach chair, the butt end of a fishing rod jammed into the sand beside him. Light from a small headlamp shined down on the previous day’s football scores. Hank flicked the light off and peered out at the ocean’s dark black plain. Only Hank, the seagulls, and a few piping plovers awaited the sunrise. He took a bite of a cheese danish and a swig of coffee and waited for another yank. Nothing. Flicking the light back on, he turned to the comics. For a fisherman, patience was a virtue. For a retired fisherman, it was a requirement.
More often than not, surfcasting at Bluep...