I am standing with some other people from work on a wooden deck or platform about two stories above a canal. I'm facing upstream.
As I gaze at the surface of the murky, grayish-brown water, I get a sense of foreboding that something sinister is lurking underneath. A red and white buoy attracts my attention. Suddenly, it sinks under the water, as a bobber might when a goldfish strikes a worm-baited hook.
Then I see a large grayish-brown catfish rapidly approach the surface of the water. It's huge gaping mouth emerges as it leaps toward someone a few feet to my right. I shout a warning, but the fish does not jump high enough to reach us.
Then I see more of these fish, even larger in size, swimming downstream towards us. The largest one is about the size of a very large retriever. I feel unsafe.