The Third Wish
Mary E. Lowd
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Copyright © 2010 by Mary E. Lowd
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The shore bubbled and frothed under Bryen's sotto voce chanting. His hands trembled, conducting currents in the air, and he squinted his eyes tight.
"Knock it off!" Charles yelled at his brother. "How will I ever get a fish to bite if you keep that up?" He kept preparing the boat as he grumbled. "Bunch of rubbish," he said. "Scares all the decent fish away."
Bryen finished his spell, and a gentle wave slid along the sand, pushing all the "treasure" it could find. Boots and bottles, shiny shells, and colorful broken glass. The same haul Bryen made every time. He slogged through the soggy sand, leaving round bootprints, as he picked through the rubble.
A final check and the boat was ready to push off. Charles called to his brother, "Let's get a move on," but Bryen was stooped down, holding a black and gold object. He brushed wet sand from it, tracing his fingers around the vase's mouth.
"Look what I found!" Bryen called.