The cold wind on the back made the Old John look like a hot-air balloon. His big white beard was nestled with minuscule frosty drops of water, as were his prominent eyebrows.

The net was disappointingly empty when Old John sucked it out from the water.
However, something black had been trapped in an angle…he pulled the net as to reach it.
Could it be? With frenzy moves, he took a 2-inch shell, its surface waved by the sea, covered with mud and algae. Old John took out his pocket knife, and delicately inserted the blade along the line. A ray of light came out from the cloudy stormy sky as to reflect the shiny, pearly inside of the shell and the little ball of the same material kept in it.

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