You can read fairy tales and watch movie versions of fairy tales but can you write one of your own? Here’s a simple story. See if you can write a similar one. And, by the way, I’d be interested in reading it.


(Roop-UH-zha:  what Lithuanian people call a frog and what you might call someone you didn’t much like).

Once there was a boy who lived high in the mountains next to a sky-blue lake. Every single day, starting with the first day the ice melted in the spring until the last leaf fell in the fall, he swam and splashed and dove in the cold, clear water.

One day, while playing hide and seek with a fish, he bumped his head on a log.  Late that night his head hurt so much that he couldn’t sleep. As he paced back and forth, he froze with fear. For there in the mirror was a Rupuze.

The boy ran and ran and ran until the sun came up and he could see that he was himself again.  “But what if it happens again?” he wondered. “What if I turn into a Rupuze every night?”

Sure enough, that night, it happened again.  So he ran all night and slept all day. Ran. Slept. Night. Day. Night. Day. Night.

Until he woke one evening on the beach of a sky-blue lake so much like the one he loved. He sighed deeply.

A beautiful girl came out of the water. “I felt your sigh across the waves. Why are you so sad? Where do you come from?”

The boy jumped up and began to run.

“Don’t go,” the girl called after him. “Please come back tomorrow.  I promise not to ask questions or talk.”

He came back the next night and the next night and for many nights after that. They never said a word. The boy always left just as it got dark.

One night the girl said, “I love the water.”

The boy looked straight ahead and slowly nodded.

Then he talked.

And she talked.

And they talked, into the night.

When the moon came out, the boy  stopped talking. It had happened again. His eyes wanted to cry. And that’s when he saw, in the black water mirror, another Rupuze sitting next to him.

She smiled.

They quietly waited for the dawn.