It was a peaceful afternoon by the lake. Birds chirped lazily in the distance, and the water shimmered beneath the soft sunlight. An elderly woman named Olivia had come to the water’s edge with a small basket of bread, something she did every week without fail. As she tossed the crumbs into the water, something glimmered beneath the surface.
She blinked and leaned in closer. There it was again—a flash of gold, darting just below the surface. Thinking it might be a trick of the light, Olivia took a step forward. But then the fish rose. It was unmistakable. A carp—brilliant gold from head to tail—hovered before her, as if observing her just as she was observing it.
She gasped, dropping the basket. The fish didn’t swim away. It moved slowly, deliberately, circling the edge of the lake. It had large, expressive eyes and shimmering scales that caught the sunlight like polished metal. “It’s beautiful,” Olivia whispered. Acting quickly, she retrieved a small net she always kept nearby and, with one swift scoop, brought the golden carp out of the water.