The Moon Is Not Enough

Once upon a time there was a fish who wanted to fly to the moon.

I spent my life searching for the fish that plagued my dreams. I needed it to go to the moon, so I could have the first good night of sleep of my entire life.

It was like the creature was taunting me. Everytime I drew close to the fish it flung boiling tar in my direction and disappeared beneath the waves.

I knew I would have to resort to drastic measures to captured it, so I morphed into my giant squid form and followed the fish into the deep, the boiling tar now a mere annoyance.

Annoyance, yes, but it got in my eyes, which, inevitably, ground my progress, unfortunately, to a halt, so I just settled for living without it. THE END. “Yes,” said the author. “I am paid per comma!”