For years, we had a staring contest.
Part trophy, part fish, mostly dead, on the wall with the inscription John Miziolek, 28 lb. Chinook, Bronte Creek - 1992.
Before he passed away, I never asked John to tell me the story of how he caught the Chinook in Bronte Creek. I hated looking at the thing for years, I pitied the way it was held in the shroud between life and death.
Since John’s passing, and in spite of myself, I’ve grown fond of the fish. When I look at the Chinook now, I think of all of the ways that this fish will outlive me, like it outlived John.