When Lightning Struck Twice

Three cups of coffee still couldn't calm my jitters as headlights cut through pre-dawn mist. The 纺车轮 in my tackle box kept whispering promises - last week's monster walleye had bent its shaft at the exact moment thunder cracked overhead.

Raindrops tattooed the aluminum boat floor as I anchored near submerged timber. My lucky frog lure（missing one glass eye since 2020）hit the water just as lightning flashed. 'One thousand one...' The thunderclap at 'three' made me spill thermos coffee down my waders.

Two hours of drowned worms later, my fishing partner Tom radioed: 'Switch to 软饵 or go home!' That's when my line started writing hieroglyphics on the rain-pocked surface. The drag screamed like a banshee as something massive circled the boat, wrapping my line around the depth finder cable.

When the storm broke, so did the surface - a doubleheader of 28-inch northern pike rising like submarine ghosts. Their synchronized tail slap soaked us both, washing coffee stains from my waders. Tom's laughter echoed across the lake: 'Guess lightning does strike twice!'