One hundred word prompt http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com
The coming season slowed the ripples on the shallow side of the bend as the last of the leaves waited on a wind. Winter would be here. John pushed his fingers into the cold mud, the worms all but gone. He stared out at the river hoping to see a splash but instead found a perfect reflection of the riverbank. The fall run was over, soon the water would thicken and ice in the corners. The fish had fed well and the bite had slowed. Under the tree blanketed beneath some leaves he found one last worm, he found hope.