The Man in the Net h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6,h7,h8,h9 { margin:0; padding:0; font-size:1em; font-weight:normal } Everything about Joseph’s day had been grey. The sky was like worn flannel, and the ocean that rolled underneath it was much the same. Even Joseph’s mood was grey; all day long his nets had come up empty. Joseph placed the oars in their oarlocks, and started to row to where his next net was set. There was a slight swell on the water, and as he rowed along, he thought of his wife, and their six children. He thought of the roof that needed patching, and he thought of his poor luck that day. “Well,” he said to himself, “it can’t get much worse.” With that, he grasped at the next net, and for a moment, felt a surge of optimism. The net was heavy. He shifted his weight in the boat, leaning back, legs braced instinctively. Hand over hand he hauled the net into the boat. As he did, he started to mutter under his breath.
