“He used to tell me stories while we fished. Ones he made up, I guess, I’m not sure. One year, a beaver family dammed the brook and built a lodge. He made up stories about them, very 'Wind in the Willows' stuff. He used to tell me that the fish were water spirits, or lost mermaids, or nixies; it was always something different. So, we always threw the fish back. He said it would bring us luck.”
―
E.W. Storch,
Impenetrable Falsehoods: A Small Book of Small Fiction