He sat on the dock looking into the pail of fish he had caught that day. Pretty amazing considering the dearth of fish in his lake. They were still alive but it was getting close to supper time so he sharpened his knife to gut them. He picked up a small bass but he couldn't slice it open. That's how he felt – gutted. Why did every god damned thing remind him? Why couldn't he just let go? He threw the silvery fish back into the lake.