Each morning, I would watch Dad climb into his tiny ship and go out to make his catches for the day. It was a tiny ship, passed down from his dad, and his dad before him. That old vessel was so old that no one in the family could remember who it originally belonged to, but it had served our family well for years. Rarely were holes ever found, and whenever any appeared they were easily patched up. When he came back that evening, he would keep enough for us to eat for dinner, and then he would give the rest of his day’s haul to his friends if they didn’t catch any that day. Everyone loved what Dad brought in, because he knew just how to cook the meat to really bring out the flavor, and he had a discerning eye that could always tell which would taste good and which should be thrown back. Dad had told me stories since I was very small of the first time Grandpa took him out onto their then much younger ship, out into what was, as far as his young mind was concerned, the great unknown. In reality, they were still near enough that he could see their home if he squinted his eyes enough. That trip, they had brought in a basket-full, enough to feed the family for a week. I was always so intrigued by that story, and was thrilled beyond belief on the day that he finally took me out with him for the first time. When we got far enough out, I looked back. Our home seemed so small. My whole world had always been confined to that tiny place, and I would never look at it the same way again upon returning. And then, the moment I dreamed of my whole short life came true. Dad let me throw the line down, and it was everything I had imagined it would be. Down, down, down it went into the depths below, and I could imagine the bustling little world that was right underneath us. A moment of sorrow came over me when I thought of the family our future meal would be leaving behind, but I quickly dismissed this feeling as childishness. They didn’t see the world that way at all, and there was no knowing how they saw us or the giant universe above them, which would be as foreign to them as their wet, miniature underworld would be to us. An impulsive, naive part of me wanted to jump ship and explore below me, but the rational part of my still-growing noggin remembered I wouldn’t be able to breathe down there like they were able to. And then Dad caught something. As I helped him as he pulled it in, I was overcome with joy. This was all so exciting. The little thing flopped around on the floor, unable to breathe. My sympathy for the little creature was quickly overcome with a sense of wonder. I’d never seen one while it was still alive before. They looked so much different cooked then when they were alive, and so much different than any other animal I’d seen roam by before.It only had a single pair of arms and legs each. It also only had two eyes, which were partially covered by crude pieces of glass it fashioned itself, which Dad told me was to help them see better. It had woven cloth into a form of clothing to cover its body and protect it from the elements, because it’s skin was not scaly like ours, and it’s blood hot instead of cold. The confused little creature grunted out in between heaves that he had always known we were real, and that everyone was wrong for calling him crazy. Dad then said we had to toss him back out. I asked him why, and he told me it was because the ones that were sick in the head, such as this one, could transmit their sickness to us when we ate it. Besides, ill brains just didn’t taste as well as sound minds did. I was worried that he would tell other humans about being caught, and they would be scared off. But Dad assured me that this was far from the first time he had to throw sick ones back where he caught them, and that no sane ones would believe the stories he told. Besides, where would they run off to? They were stranded on their tiny little rock, with no way out. We caught several more that Dad did approve of, and we soon made our way back home. That night, he even showed me how to skin them to keep the flavor intact. It was certainly an adventure going out there, but I was relieved to be back home on my own little red planet.
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