Personal Narrative: Three Holes

The old plywood floor welcomed us as we walked into the the eight foot by seven foot shed. The room had been converted from a small shed for ice fishing. Three holes had been drilled along each side, with one hole centered on the back wall. When I took a seat on a black folding chair in the back right corner, my friend Carter sat down in the back left corner. As we dropped our lines into the holes, Carter made a joke, "Dude, I bet one of us will get a 20 incher today." After a few minutes, we were both sweating like a rain storm, so we took our jackets off and hung them up.
As the day continued, we caught many walleyes, most of them were from 12 to 16 inches. We were catching a fish roughly every 20 minutes, so we were accustomed to our bobbers going under water. Carter's bobber went

I was focused on one rod, because my other one had fallen down the fishing hole, and was nowhere to be seen. As Carter re baited his rod and dropped it in the hole he said, “Ben come take a look at this, what is that?” I inspected the piece of string on the ground and said, “ It is just a piece of fishing line. One of us must of dropped it." Carter replied, “I know, but look at where it is”. I then took a closer look at the small piece of line, it was traveling from Carters fishing hole on the back wall, into the center hole on the back wall. I slowly grabbed the string from the middle hole, inspecting it as I pulled, Carter was pulling the string out of his hole. Carter said, “No way! Dude look at what I found”. I turned my head to find Carter holding my fishing rod that fell down the hole earlier in the struggle. I then looked back into the fishing hole and saw the fish we dropped in the hole. I looked at Carter and said, “Ya thats pretty cool, but¨. With two tugs of the string, I raised the giant walleye out of the hole, and finished my sentence saying, "mines