Idan was standing on a small wooden pier. Ahead stretched the surface of an unfamiliar body of water, over which the fog slowly crept.
The fishing rod was still in his hands.
He looked at his fingers, then at the water.
"What the..."
There was a soft splash nearby.
He turned his head.
A few dozen paces away, a man was sitting and leisurely spinning a reel. There were other piers a little further away. Some were empty, the rest were also occupied by fishermen.
Everyone had a fishing rod similar to his own.
The nearest fisherman glanced at Idan.
"The first time?"
Idan hesitated for a moment before nodding.
"Then don't stand so close to the edge."
Idan involuntarily looked down and obediently stepped back.
"And don't stand here, go register," the fisherman added, without even looking in his direction. He picked up the bottle and, without taking his eyes off the float, took a sip.
"Register?"— Idan looked around the shore. A small wooden building caught his attention.
