Post by MikeyM on Apr 30, 2004 13:01:17 GMT
Nobby had been a keen angler, but in the last years of his life he was too frail and athritic to get out by the water. He died peacefully in his sleep one night, after a short illness.
Just seconds after his last earthly breath, he found himself sitting on an island in the middle of a tree-lined lake. Gone were all his old aches and pains, his back was straight again, he could see everything clearly once more and could hear the birds and insects all around him.
The lake itself was beautiful, with the warm sunshine reflecting off its barely-rippled surface. By his side he saw his favourite rod and reel, all set up ready to go with line, float, weights and hook. He took one of the wriggling maggots from the tub by his feet, put it on the hook and cast out a few feet from the rod tip. Almost as soon as it ed, the float shot below the surface, Nobby struck and soon had a two-ounce roach in his hands. He put the fish back into the water, changed the maggot and cast back to the same spot, thinking it had been beginners' luck. But no, the float disappeared again and Nobby's strike produced another two-ounce roach. Five more came quickly from the same spot, so Nobby tried further and further out until he was casting as far as he could, but wherever his float landed he got the same instant result - small roach.
Getting a bit bored of this, Nobby decided to change swims, but found that all the other possible spots were already occupied. He stopped to chat to one of the other anglers, who told him that he'd been fishing there for years, and as Nobby watched, he pulled out a succession of two-ounce roach.
"Do you ever catch anything else ?" asked Nobby.
"No, never." answered his companion.
"Hell !" said Nobby.
"That's right !" came the reply.