A man approached a woman and said, “What a beautiful work of art.”

She asked, “Do you know anything about it?”

He replied, “From the beginning, let us start.”

There is a story that many don’t know of a man in a boat in a storm long ago.

On a dark, early morning a sailor set out, rowing blind and splashing about.

He rode waves high and then down low, what he had in store he did not know.

His pursuit was of history, to many a mystery. Why did he go? Why could it be?

“It sounds dangerous,” the woman said, “why take the risk?”

“Well,” said the man, “listen on, I insist.”

He made claims of a fish magical with power, if you made any wish it was granted in an hour.

1942 was a hard year at best, and the sailor had it bad, worse than the rest.

If he could find the magic fish with all of its power, he would grow healthy and rich, and could live in a tower.

“Really? Any wish in an hour?” the woman asked. “Yes,” replied the man, “any desire, any task.”

The woman’s eyes got big as she shook her head, “Go on, keep going,” she excitedly said.

The magical fish lived very far away but where exactly was very hard to say.

Once in awhile in the dark of the night, the magic fish glowed, emitting a faint light.

Folklore calls it the Light of Ruin, when it shined it was known a storm was a-brewin.

As the sailor set course toward his dreams of reward the winds and the waves roared as they soared.

He knew every risk but he still climbed aboard.

“Wait,” said the woman, “The Light of Ruin? The sailor knew that? What was he doing?”

He pushed through the storm for what felt like days. He rowed in a daze and rowed through the haze.

The story as it goes says he made it through, that he found the fish, that his dreams came true.

From time to time he reappears as some report sightings from the end of the pier.

But the sailor has never officially returned, the fate of his journey was never confirmed.

The man stood up and said, “Thank you for listening.” The woman looked up, her eyes still glistening.

The woman then asked, “Have you seen any signs, of the sailor or fish or its light that shines?”

“No,” the man replied, “and we never will. The mystery lives on forever still. The fish in a tale over time

always grows, was it even magical? Nobody knows.”

The man turned to leave, it was time for him to go. The woman couldn’t believe what she did not know.

“Wait,” said the woman, “who told you this tale?”

The man looked back, smiled and exhaled.

“It’s getting late,” he replied, “it’s been almost an hour, I must say goodnight and go home to my tower.”