The Fisherman and His Wife

A fisherman caught a flounder that spoke. It was an enchanted prince, the fish explained. The fisherman did not care to eat a talking prince, so he put it back.

When his wife heard what had happened, she asked why he had requested nothing. Their hut was miserable. Surely the fish could give them a cottage.

The fisherman returned to the shore. The water was no longer clear, but the flounder came when called. By the time he reached home, a tidy cottage stood where the hut had been.

For a little while his wife was pleased. Then she wanted a castle. After the castle came a crown. After the crown came greater authority, and after that an authority greater still.

Each time the fisherman walked back to the shore with less desire to speak. The sea grew darker. Waves battered the sand. Yet each wish was granted, and each new room seemed to make his wife notice a larger room she did not possess.

At last, watching the sun rise, she demanded power over the sun and moon themselves.

The fisherman could scarcely stand in the storm when he called the flounder. He delivered the request in a voice smaller than the surf.

“Go home,” said the fish.

He found the old hut beside the water. His wife sat in the doorway, surrounded by everything they had owned before.

The fisherman put away his rod. Beyond the window the sea moved according to its own wishes, and the sun continued its journey without asking anyone's leave.