“An Average Summer Day”

There hasn't been a summer yet we haven't gone fishing in that nasty polluted lake. It's not just us either; every summer you see fathers and sons gather around the putrid lake and sit on the cliffs that surround it, racing to catch the radioactive fish below. As I have done so with my dad, so has he with his father, and his father before us. It's become a tradition, and I hope to one day bring my own son along, too.