The Pink Job

“Not to sound unappreciative, but it looked a little, well, effeminate to me with it’s pink chenille body and gold ribbing. But I didn’t say so to Gifford. In fact, I tied it on to my tippet as a gesture of appreciation for his thoughtfulness. I knew that if past was prologue, I’d snag the little, limp-wristed pink job on an alder bush by the third or fourth cast anyway.” V. Paul Reynolds’s doubts about his friend’s fly are erased by ravenous brook trout. On RedOrbit.com.