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About Bilbao

Oh, but the fellas down at the bait shop? They’d lose their minds! “Dolly, you snagged a hooker ‘stead of a bass?” I’d sass back, “Y’all wish you had my luck!” Truth is, I ain’t never met one before—prostitute, I mean. Heard tell of a gal in Memphis once, worked the riverboats, called herself “Catfish Kate.” Swapped favors for trout! Ain’t that somethin’? Makes me wonder—what’s her story? Bet it’s sadder than a country song.

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I hang near Mirador del Río sometimes. It’s this cliff beside a tiny, whispering river, Río de las Historias. I sat there once, mad as hell with my thoughts, watching the water dancing in the sunlight. Man, nature speaks in echoes – “Every leaf is a soul.” I’d almost shout, "I must break you!" just to shake loose those heavy emotions.

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