Tristan sat on top of roof overlooking the waters that surround his home. The waters he grew up next to for 10 years as a young boy. Many of the men he was around as a boy were fishermen and taught him how to fish. He knew their life and knew what it meant to be out there all day. His father had complimented him on his fishing skills whenever he found his way back him, mentioning that it built character as well as patience. Tristan might not have liked killing the fish for some strange reason, but the whole act of going out to the water and catching them felt calming to him.
He didn’t think the men fishing were “mad”. In fact, those fishermen were some of the sanest people he knew. But something was strange about this whole thing that didn’t add up to him. Climbing down from the roof, he thought about trying to find a boat and seeing if he could sneak out into the water himself to see. He had to know the truth even if he would be arrested. “Watch out below!” he called out before he jumped down a few feet. He stood up and started to dust himself off. “Hope I didn’t frighten you too much.” he told the person. “I just wanted a good view of the waters. What’s going on out there is kinda odd isn’t it?”











