Fiddleeebod

The magic fish removed its spectacles, placed them on the bedside table, doused the glow lamp, and settled back with a sigh to sleep. Sleep, however,refused to visit. The constant drip, drip, drip of air bubbles blurping up from the faucet in the bathroom tap, tap, tapped on the magic fish’s brain. Drat, thought the magic fish, I need plenty of sleep. Tomorrow no doubt I’ll probably have to deal with that fisherman’s greedy wife again or some equally obnoxious fool. The magic fish swam from bed to bathroom and tightened the tap with all it was worth and a few bars more. Such was its effort that its scales glistened like a rainbow. There, muttered the satisfied fish, that’s got it. Returning to bed, the magic fish burrowed down in comfort, sighing again, this time with bliss. Sleep visited, touching the magic fish with its soothing wand of peace. Elsewhere, the greedy wife of the fisherman spent a sleepless night concocting some newly ridiculous demand.

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General by Steve