fishing in hell

Okay fishing is a hard job; imagine fishing without water or a fishing rod? (No, fishing is not in a metaphorical context here) there’s this tank at our back yard, it was supposed to be our septic tank but it was not properly built nor was it closed, after a new septic tank was built. In a town where it rains almost daily the tank is almost always filled with water .And the people we rented our house to before we moved there had put some fishes in the tank so that mosquitoes don’t lay their eggs there. So one hot summer day my mom comes to me and says “there’s fish at the bottom of the tank, the tank dried up so you can catch it easily”. So I decided to be sport and catch some fish, thus began an hour I desperately try to forget.
Imagine this, the tank is 4 feet deep, it had dried up in the summer heat.(regrettably not fully dried the floor was a wet muddy mess) I could spot two fishes (mudskipper or catfish, I don’t know the name but they are more elusive than an al queda terrorist) they were in a small pool of really wet mud. So the traditional method of a hook and bait would definitely not work. The only weapon of choice I had was a pair of long sticks that I had to use like a giant pair of chopsticks to push it into the bucket attached to the string my mom placed near the fish. I know what you are thinking if it was just 4 feet deep why didn’t I get in it and get the fish. The floor of the tank could be placed in the top 5 most disgusting and dangerous terrains in the world list, so getting inside the tank could be placed as the last possible resort to get the fish. The fishes were alive and they were more slippery than a greasy pole with motor oil poured throughout its length. And what’s more annoying is having my mom and sister yelling instructions at me “push it in” “lift it with the two sticks” “go right” “go left”. An hour passed by with no luck. When people give you directions (that’s only use is to cause the poor soul listening, a migraine) and you are the one doing all the work it causes a feeling of at most annoyance that cannot be described in mere words. But finally I managed to push both the fishes in the bucket (one slippery living hell at a time).Two sore hands, a few bruises and a really tired body later there they were, the two fishes that ruined my day. But when the question came on who would have the pleasure of killing them, I thought I would be more than glad to kill them (and kill them violently) but I couldn’t, after more than 2 excruciating hours in the sun trying to catch them I couldn’t get myself to kill the fruits of my hard work. So I let the killing and cooking with my mom, I didn’t even eat the nice curry the fish had the poor fortune of becoming. The moral of the story is when you work so hard on something, only for your effort to be eaten by others you have to make sure have a little bit of it yourself or you’ll have to starve !