“This is how you gut the fish,” I explained, squatting by the river. “First, you…”
“Wait! Can’t you move further downstream?” Elsa complained, putting her hands on her hips. “We’re right where we were bathing earlier!” I looked at the others incredulously, wondering if anyone was thinking the same. You i***t, was what I was thinking. The river is a bloody river. It flows out to the sea. It doesn’t matter where we clean the fish - it’ll all flow away.
“I guess Elsa has a point,” Euphie conceded reluctantly. “Let’s just move downstream for peace of mind. After all, we did agree that we would do our business far downstream if we ever needed to relieve ourselves while at the lake.”
With a sigh, I picked up the wide basket that held the five fish we had caught, and moved further downstream.
