I took the skin from some fillets of fish.
I opened the kitchen window to throw the skins into the river to feed cannbalistic fishes.
I flicked them out to prevent them landing on the gunwales.
As they fell riverwards the pointy bit of a canoe appeared from the right.
The skins landed on the boat.
The canoeist paddled passed giving me a terse nod and proceded upriver with a lump of slimy fish skin sitting on the prow of his canoe.
Serves him right for canoeing so close to moored boats.
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