’Twas the night before mullet season

’Twas the night before mullet seasonw hen all through the village not a husband was home there was no one around. The nets were all hung by the fisherman with care in hopes that the mullet run soon would be there. My crew in their slickers and new boots and caps took a few moments to take a quick nap. When out on gulf there roared such a sound, like thunder the fish, they showered all around, away to our nets we flew like a flash, tore open the box lid threw the net, splash. >click to read< 07:08

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