It was called the floating forest and was viewable mostly from the telescopes on the beach, you know the ones that you put a coin into? Through those grubby, finger smudged lenses you could see it, though it was still quite small compared to the rest of the lake.
If you stood there long enough, observing the trees sprouting from the old shipwreck, you'd notice that no boats ever seemed to go near it in spite of the large shoals of fish that darted in and out of the safe, murky waters beneath it.
Perhaps it was because of all the rocks in that area, the ones that were rumoured to have caused the wreck to occur in the first place. Or was it because of the pale, lithe figures that darted in and out of the trees like they were on a mossy forest floor as opposed to a creaking, slowly rusting to nothing boat?
It's hard to say when nobody knows any of the fishermen, has seen any of the fishermen and honestly doubts their existence as one might doubt the existence of ghosts. Though at this point the two are fast becoming interchangeable - both stay in one area for an unknown amount of time, both have hard to distinguish facial features, both flicker in and out of view if you stare for too long and talking about either makes the temperature wherever you are drop by several degrees.
Needless to say there are signs advising that people avoid swimming and fishing unless they have a license and written permission from the mayor. This way only a few bloated, half eaten corpses wash up on shore. So fewer compared to the years before but so much more brutalised.
I think we angered the fishermen by denying them regular feedings.
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