You are judged by how much you own, by how much money you have. You cannot escape that because you don't want to. You participate in the same materialistic behaviour that you despise, not wanting to stop so as not to lose what you have.
You are hooked, just like a fish at the end of an invisible line. The exquisitely cruel piece of metal digs painfully into your flesh as you struggle, but no matter how you lament your fate, it all boils down to one fact: you chose to bite into the bait.
You knew it could be possible that hidden inside the sweet, sweet worm was an unnatural device, a weapon made for a single purpose. You have seen what it did to the others, pulling them against their will to the suffocating air beyond the surface, never to return.
Yet bite it you did.
You knew what was coming. You got what was coming. You shall give what was coming to the others.
In pieces, your flesh now hangs on the very hook that brought you to the end. Now other fish look longingly at you, knowing what you knew, seeing what you saw. They and you are different and the same.
Some swim away; they are now regarded as deviants, failures. How can one see food and reject it? It doesn't even struggle when you eat it! They are stupid to reject it, foolish to turn away from meat that doesn't need to be hunted and caught.
Now three hooks sway with an elegant grace in the peaceful currents of the river, each wearing a fresh piece of fish. The friends exchange stories and jokes, sipping beer and eager to sample the local wildlife. Tomorrow they will have to return to work, but just for today, nothing exists except the different fishes that really aren't very different.
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