[Short Story] Fishing at Night

Fishing at Night

How many years has it been since I went fishing at night?
A flashlight and a small folding chair. A warm canned coffee bought at a convenience store, and two rice balls.

“Daddy, will we really catch anything?”
My son, tucked into his child seat in the back, asks sleepily.

“Who knows. If we catch something, it’s lucky.”
“What’s lucky?”
“It means good fortune.”
“Good... fortune...”
“...It means something happy is going to happen.”

I park the car by the deserted riverbank. The sky is overflowing with stars.
The sound of grass underfoot, the chirping of insects—everything felt like a long-lost memory, somehow nostalgic.

Watching the float bobbing on the river’s surface, my son whispered,
“This is kind of fun, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is.”

Perhaps being here together like this is already lucky, regardless of whether we catch anything.
Work, daycare, dinner, bath, bedtime—
Chased by those daily routines, I had forgotten what it was like to just “wait slowly” for something.

“...Daddy.”
“Hmm?”
“Does space really exist?”
“It does.”
“Then, do they have fishing in space, too?”

My son’s words, leaping through his imagination, gently ripple across the night river.

Just then, the float suddenly sank.
“Ah! Daddy! It’s here! Lucky is here!!”

Laughing, we both pulled on the fishing rod.
Just one small fish. But it surely gave us a moment of “now” that was wider than the universe.

The lukewarm canned coffee, the saltiness of the rice balls—everything felt warm.

<End>

*Afterword*
This is a short story written for the #ShirokumaLiteratureClub prompt.
I don’t have a son, but I felt that fishing at night fits a father and son better.
I remembered when my two-year-old daughter asked me, “What’s lucky?” when I used the word. I hope this leaves you with a warm feeling after reading.

Sincerely, Yoshiki