Once there lived a fish in a small out-of-the-way pond somewhere in the wild places of England. It wasn't a very extraordinary fish, just a common one quietly living in the cool water. There was almost nothing to bear down on it's mind apart from where his next meal was to be found and to make sure he didn't become a meal himself. Almost nothing. Day to day he floated lazily near the surface of the pond. Through the rippling water the fish could watch the outside world; the grass waving in the wind, the sun alighting everything in it's bright radiance, but more importantly, he could watch the birds. For you see, in one matter this fish was very un-ordinary. This fish desired to be a bird.
Then one day, the fish had a brilliant idea. He watched from the edge of the pool as a bird picking at the tall grass suddenly took a running start and leaped into the air. It was the jump. It was all in the jump thought the fish to himself. What if he himself tried this jump? Could he lift his scaly body into the sky and soar through the air? It was worth a try. Swimming down towards the bottom of the pond, it turned around and stared up at the clear surface. Then he gathered his energy and shot towards the surface. He flew from the water and wriggled but he still fell with a splash back into the pond. The fish leaped again and again and failed again and again. But he wouldn't give up so he kept trying.
All through the next two days and the night in between he kept trying. He was weary and lightheaded from lack of food and rest but he wouldn't stop. Then as the day began to draw to a close, the fish gathered himself for one last jump and used all of his strength to fly from the pond one final time. Instead of falling back, the fish flew and flew, leaving behind the dark water and surrounding land.
Amazed, he flexed his wings then beat them against the trembling air. The bird marveled at the beautiful gray feathers that now sprouted from his body, wings, and head. He opened his mouth, his beak, and clapped the hard fixed pieces together (managing to catch a passing fly in the process). The bird flew higher and circled around riding the hot air torrents that swirled around him. But something was wrong, he was so very weak. He was sleepy and his head felt very heavy. Another wind buffeted him but the bird was too weak to force his way higher into the sky. He straightened his flight out until another wind hit him. His wings began to wobble and he lost control of his flight. The bird began to fall and fall and fall until he fell no more and hit solid ground.
Everything hurt and ached and there was something hard pressed against his side. Slowly, the fish opened his eyes and stared at the glittering surface of the pond, barely a foot away. But how? He should be so much farther than this! He had flown the winds across the green fields and farther. What had happened to his beautiful feathers and wings? In their place was left small flapping fins and closely fit, dull scales. It was so hard to breathe. The air burned him and he longed for the soothing water. The fish wriggled, struggling but he was stuck on the hard earth. He flopped again and then he could do no more. Every breath left his body so much weaker and deprived. Through the fuzziness in his mind, he watched the sun sink into the horizon and the sky slowly begin to darken. The fish breathed once more, exhaled then that was it. He could take no more air.
With a pang of sadness, he realized that he had never truly flown. The wonderful sensations of flying had just been hallucinations of his tired mind as he lay barely alive and gasping for air on the ground. He had dreamed for so much more when what he had was already enough. It was left to the dreaming fools to crash and burn and he was certainly a dreaming fool. And as the last of the light disappeared leaving a cold and moonless night, the fish quietly died.
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