Whether the line hooked or snagged or was tied with care doesn't matter. It stretched taut, sang like a wire over distance, payed out to the pull of whatever it was that swam so strong, dove so deep, away, always away, never a circle or return till the reel was empty, and was not a reel, but an unravelled heart, its bright thread kinked with the ghost of every stitch, fluttering like a thin flag, like a lost vein, into the huge world.