> Tease!! Where's the next bit?

[I actually did have a meeting. Then a long string of irritating b.s. from various directions, including a lunch webinar. Grrrr.]

He reached into the boat for his backback, then turned and headed for the buildings at the top of the beach. As he stepped away, the fish saw its last chance, after trailing the little rowboat clear across the sound from the distant houseboat. It took the best run it could and leapt, bursting from the water's surface and soaring above the beach to smack into the back of Daniel's head and flop down through the open zipper into the depths of his pack. His hand flew up to feel for damage as he spun to look back over the water.

He saw nothing behind him for half a mile, nor any bird that could have dive-bombed him, nor anything on the sand that could have hit him, nor any other cause at all for the residual damp in his hair. His fingers caught the drip starting to run down his neck as he stared a long time in puzzlement, then he turned and shrugged and hurried to class.

The fish gasped and peered through the dusty darkness. Its gills flailed among the lint, paper, and grit there, gaining no purchase in the dusty vacuum and rapidly drying. As the panic rose, it noticed a plastic cup with a snap-on lid containing what might be liquid. It wriggled upward, wedged a lip under the rim of the lid, and gave its mightiest arch. The lid stretched, then popped, and the fish managed to squeeze through to plop into the cup of apple juice.

Well anyway it was wet. It was also sticky, allowing only scant breath through gummed up gills, and it gave a disturbing yellow tint to the tiny sliver of light that reached down into the depths. But it was a step up from the previous situation. And it tasted more or less okay.