The river in the valley would not give me anything. So I went looking for water closer to home.

There is a canal at the eastern edge of Central. I have walked past it more times than I can count. Today I sat down at the end of it with a line, which I have never done in my life, and waited.

The first thing that came up was an oyster. Pale and cold, with a faint shine to the shell, like it had been sleeping under the moon. They call them moon oysters. A bit of coral came up with it, pink and branched like a small bare tree.

I caught five of each before my arms got tired. I do not know yet what they are for. I am not sure they are for anything.

I turned one of the oysters over in my hands for a long time.

All this while I have been hunting rare things in terminals, and there was a whole shelf of them sitting under the water at the edge of town.