Do you know the story of the fisherman and his wife? The one with the enchanted fish, kindhearted fisherman, and the greedy wife?

No? You've never heard the tale? Lucky for you, this isn't about the fisherman or his wife.

This story is about me.

My earliest memory is of water. It envelops me. It's even inside me. There is neither joy nor fear. Just acceptance.

Day after day, I roam the waters near the high cliff. The snag on the blanket of undisturbed subjective peace is the boredom. The monotonous, everyday sameness.

Until the day I find the lamp.