“Falling off the boat was no big deal,” thought Gillian, as she trod water a few feet from the watercraft. The marine biologist checking a piece of equipment on the back of the ship when she had lost her balance and fallen into the calm waters of this large lake. Thankful she had not lost her glasses Gill adjusted them with a finger by pushing them to sit securely on the bridge of her nose until she was happy with the snug fit. The prescription fine though a few droplets of the crystal-clear water distorted her vision slightly, giving a rainbow-like tinge to her view on this sunny day. happy with the snug fit, she began to paddle back to her research vessel, the cold water washing over her with each stroke making her grateful for this accidental dip as it was removing the sticky sweat of this summer day from her skin.

The ship drifting slightly though this didn’t bother Gill, as it was securely anchored, so this slight motion was of little concern as it would not get far. Gill would just have to give a few more strokes to get high and dry so the golden sun could dry her with gentle rays. The sound of seagulls in the air, as they danced over the pastel blue like the spirits of departed sailors, the birds seeming to be laughing at her clumsiness that head led her into taking a mid-afternoon swim in the drink. Gill’s pace in no particular rush, as the waters were safe, no sharks or crocodiles insight as with casually swam to the bobbing boat.

WHAM

Then it hit her, a sudden impact from below and a sound like a gunshot as she was enveloped in an upsurge of water. Gill feeling a tug as she was sucked downwards as something large breached below her, as she was carried upwards by the momentum of her attacker. Her eyes falling down to observe her assailant, all Gill could see was a wall of grey and tiny beady eyes looking back before she sank into a rim of cotton coloured flesh.

Her mind unable to process what had just happened as the inertia of her falling hit and then the jaws slammed down over the crown of her head with a clap. A ginormous catfish simply taking her as a meal no different than its smaller ilk might a duckling, a strike and a gulp and the promising marine biologist was nothing but a bundle of unwillingly donated nutrients making a barely discernible lump in the catfish’s bulky midsection. Her body tucked up neatly as it folded her into an economic position so it may begin reducing her to her base components, a few spasming twitches all she could muster in the minute or so it took her to drown in the stifling stomach.

The doctor soon replaced with nothing but a simmering lump of female flesh, the catfish not caring for her intelligence, the beast solely interested in what calorific content that fatty brain might offer its girthy frame. In time some fishermen would happen upon Gills vacant boat, but they wouldn’t find the preppy scientist, instead the only lasting legacy she would have would be a series of papers on freshwater snails that would linger in archives unread…..

....................................

Just a little bit more catfish action to wet your whistle with. moral of the story here is catfish are greedy Bois and a shapely marine biologist is an easy meal for them. Also, no one reads most scientific papers so if that is your legacy, it's a shit one, no one will ever read 99% of shit posted in scientific journals. this poor lass learnt this too late though and she is going to be fertilizing some pondweed in the near future as fish feces.

A commission I got from  PeculiarArt ( Irene Fox in this case). who as usual did a prompt and good job. they asked me to mention they are doing a YCH which the details for can be found here: https://aryion.com/g4/view/536743

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