Abuelo Tomas stood calmly, pinned the thrashing piranha down with a thick leather glove, and tossed it back into the depths.
A flash of red and silver erupted from the depths. Mateo shrieked, pulling his legs back so fast he nearly tumbled backward onto the sun-bleached planks. A small, muscular fish—no longer than his hand—clattered onto the pier, thrashing wildly. Its belly was a brilliant, fiery orange, and its scales shimmered like crushed diamonds. PiraГ±a 1
His grandfather, Abuelo Tomas, sat nearby, repairing a woven fishing net with hands that looked like gnarled driftwood. Abuelo Tomas stood calmly, pinned the thrashing piranha
Mateo looked at his toe. A tiny, perfect scratch sat right on the tip, a single bead of blood blooming like a ruby. "He touched me," Mateo whispered, his bravado gone. A small, muscular fish—no longer than his hand—clattered
"Don't let your toes dip, niño ," Tomas warned without looking up. "The river is hungry today."
How should the story continue? One option is to explore what happens next when Mateo's younger sister accidentally drops something valuable into the water, or perhaps skip ahead to when a grown-up Mateo returns to the river with his own secrets.
To prove his bravery, Mateo lowered his right foot until his big toe broke the surface. A tiny ripple fanned out, silver against the obsidian water.