fish

The fisherman had a wooden boat with a fabric sail. When they dropped the planet killing from from the glider he was at sea. The bomb fell down. It detonated. A shock wave concentrically erupted. It was all powerful. All things ceased to be. The arguing irate wife and meal husband. The busy factory doing triple shifts. The corrupt politician doing graft. A yellow dog eating her food. All this disappeared under the single shockwave. This went around the globe a hundred times. The man in his wooden boat fishing survived. Why was this? Did he have done protection? Now he inhabited a planet devoid of life. Why was he spared? It was tondo with specifics. That of being the right place at the wrong time. Or opposite. He was going after salmon. The were far from shore but in shallow water. He had gotten a few and was after more. Then he would return home. Sell his catch at market. Smoke and eat the rest. Now there was no market to return to. He set off hone with his fish. All to eat alone. He the king of the world. A lone fisherman. Why was he spared?