Divorced Angler: Memories of a Big Catch — 2024

The morning light came in thin and polite, a hush of silver on the lake that felt like an apology. I’d been back out on these waters because routine is cheaper than company and quieter than a courtroom. The boat smelled of old rope and coffee grounds. My hands remembered the oars before my head did.

I didn't need a photo. I didn't need to mount him on a wall in a room I didn't want to live in. The catch wasn't about keeping something; it was about the moment I realized I could still handle the heavy lifting on my own.

As I stand on the lake's shore, I realize that I am not the same person I was all those years ago. I am wiser, wearier, and perhaps a little more cautious. But I am also more resilient, more determined to find joy in the midst of sorrow.

How would you like to refine the tone of this piece—should we lean more into the melancholy of the divorce or the technical thrill of the hunt?

  1. What did the big catch cost you? (Time, money, a birthday, an anniversary?)
  2. What did your spouse say about fishing? (Did they mock it, tolerate it, or join you once?)
  3. Where is that fish now? (On the wall, in the trash, given away?)
  4. If you went fishing tomorrow, what bait would you use? (Worm? Crankbait? Or just a bare hook to feel the water?)
  5. Who is the one person you want to read this story?

, a 3D platformer game that explores the themes of expressive movement and the joy of fishing, set to release on Steam.

When we broke the surface, the fish flashed—brilliant, ridiculous, unapologetic. It was larger than memory had allowed for, scaled in a light I could not name. For a breath the world narrowed to that living thing, the hook, and my hands. I felt both master and accomplice, exalted and embarrassed at the spectacle of my own joy.