The Fisherman Who Never Catches Fish Novels & Stories

I said, panicked. “No matter. I bought it after retiring but never used it much. It's an excuse for me not to talk too loudly and catch on some sleep,” he confessed. “But the people are waiting for fish. How did you catch them before?” he asked. I looked at him to see if he really was curious. “Manually. I walked into shallow pools of flowing water if there was no pack nearby and caught them with my hand.” Seeing that he was impressed, I shrugged. “You must be good at it, then. Who taught you?”

that oversized fisherman argued back to skinny looking fisherman who once again shushed him and gave him a stern look… “SHUT UP Boris…. you don’t have to be sacred of that little piglet all the time… he will help us if we FORCE HIM TO..…” that skinny looking fisherman replied with a angry look on his face… seeing which the fisherman who was almost four times larger than his size got quite…. and turned his head down… ‘How ironic’ I spoke in my mind.. After dealing with oversized fisher man that skinny looking fisherman turned to us and said “I apologize for my brother mister Draco… he is just born coward… anyway my name is Morris..…” that skinny looking fisher man replied with a smile

Her face was blurred—but her hair was long, and her eyes were black. She smiled at the fisherman. And when she spoke, the voice didn’t go through his ears—it went straight into his head. “Tell Ethan… he’s late.” The fisherman passed out before he could scream. --- The next morning, villagers found his body lying by the lake. His breathing was shallow. His arms wrapped around an empty lantern. He lived. But he never spoke again. The only thing he did, all day, was draw the same thing in the dirt—over and over again. With a twig, with his finger, even with a sharp rock if he had to:

Dale grew anxious. "Well, one day I tried to go fishing for my hungry brother, I had a great catch." She stopped smiling and indicated the size of the creature she had caught. "It was a very big catfish, a rare one of its kind. It was so big that I fell into the river whilst trying to pull it out the river. Some good fishermen found me and saved me. Yes good Fishermen saved me, and gave me a name "martin pescatore" meaning "the kingfisher." The news went to my dad and he did the unexpected." She paused and the two wiped off their tears in unison.

"Today is so special, we all are having great catches." "I'm not regretting coming out today." As they were talking, the river started rumbling, and the boats were also dancing to the rumble. "What's going on?" A fisher man asked. The rumble became so much that the boats capsided and the fishermen we are thrown into the river. All of a sudden a great figure emerged out of the water and swallowed the total number of 50 fisherman present. She came to the surface of the waters and cracked her neck, smoking heavily.

Just as he thought they’d live out their days quietly with Uncle Butler, disaster struck. He was eleven that year. That morning, he went to a small river outside the village to catch fish, planning to have Uncle Butler make soup for his sister. The river was shallow but teeming with fish and shrimp. Since his sister loved eating fish, he often went there to catch some for her. But unlike the usual small fry, that day the river was full of large, fat fish. He’d already caught two—enough for lunch—but he figured he’d catch a few more and have Uncle Butler make dried fish to last them a few days.

she crouched beside the boat. "Go on." She lowered it carefully into the water. The tiny fish disappeared beneath the waves. The old fisherman smiled. "Most people come fishing to catch fish." "You came to rescue one." She smiled. "It was too little." Vance watched her quietly. His heart felt impossibly full. She watched it disappear beneath the water. "Maybe it'll grow bigger." Vance walked closer. "You came all this way to catch fish... and now you're worried about hurting one."

He was thriving, yet he was also the target. Five days after the chime, the first answer came. It was not dramatic. Cassian was checking the fish traps in the river when he saw a fish that was unlike any in their waters. It was long and slender with scales that were a shifting, opalescent grey instead of silver. It moved against the current without effort. The creature circled his trap once with intelligent curiosity before it vanished into the dark water under the stone bridge. He told Elidra that evening that the fish felt old. It did not seem magical, but rather like it came from a different time.

He struggled to come up with a response for quite some time before stammering, "I-I was very tired last night, so I don't remember it." He looked around nervously as he attempted to salvage the situation. "You shouldn't listen to his nonsense, Yvonne. He's never even laid eyes on a max-level account!" I looked at him with a pronounced, mocking smile. "How about we discuss game mechanics since you're such an expert, Henry?"

"You couldn't beat me when you were free. What exactly are you planning to do from behind bars?" Ethan wept silently, pressing his face against the glass. I didn't give him a second look. I picked up a gift basket and went to thank the fisherman who had saved my life. The old man waved me off. He spoke in a thick rural accent. "We don't do things for reward around here. I pulled a little boy out of the water once, long ago. He grew up fine, made it into a good school, except we couldn't afford to send him."