MicroDosing: 55µg – The Depth of Blue-Grey Cold
Year on year, that trout knew the river’s elbow-turn. Its icy thieving bite at bait. The humming tone of my father’s hook circling the same blue-grey crook of curved water. Depth was measured in patience. He’d cast and recast, quiet as the current. And the water, full of memory, kept what it wouldn’t let him catch.
Written for MicroDosing Fiction on Substack, and a quick Six Sentence Story for Denise, including the word “tone”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.
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