Bare Snow Falling On Fairywood

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Law had just hooked a three-foot waewaeli when her phone started to ring. She ignored it as she fought the twenty-pound fish. “Not now, not now, go to voice mail!” Only a half-dozen people had her phone number and at the moment, she didn’t want to talk to any of them. It stopped ringing for a minute, only to start again. And again. And again.

“Who the frigging hell?” She’d lost too many phones trying to cradle them on her shoulder and reel in a fish. She would need at least one hand free to answer the phone. Finally she locked the reel and jerked her phone out of her breast pocket.

“What?” she cried as her rod bent as the big fish fought the line.

“Who is this?” a female voice asked.

“Law!” she shouted. “Law Munroe.” At least that was the name she was using most recently. The joy of having a mother who had been married ten times meant that even close family friends weren’t sure what your real, real name was. “Who is this?”

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