The Dock

A calm settled over them, a gentle feeling that had eluded this makeshift family in the past. Danny never really felt comfortable around his stepfather. His mother's mood swings also left him on edge. She seemed to harbor residual anger toward his father, who left them for a young floozy.
They sat on the dock as the sun lingered like an impatient waiter. This felt like the beginning of something good in their lives.
The fish Danny caught was small and desperate. He looked at his stepfather who shrugged. Danny's decision. The boy tossed it back. His mother patted his shoulder, aware he was capable of making these choices. Compassion was something she had tried to instill, in between her down moods.
It was time to return home, perhaps watch a DVD, snack on something unhealthy.
Across the lake three bearded men emerged from the woods carrying rifles. They'd spent the day deer hunting with nothing to show for it. They spotted three figures on the dock. Decisions in this world get made quickly without regard for moral or humane considerations.
The men had been drinking. They were angry and frustrated. This was hunting country. They hated fishing.
Do the math.