Creative Ink writing prompt here
At midnight and at noon from the depths of the lake he comes forth, right when the reality weakens, his strength peaks. He comes out of the water dry, but somehow there is always a puddle under him. Sitting in a willow tree, smoking a pipe or playing a fiddle, he watches and lurks his victims in the water. He waits for an inexperienced swimmer to be careless but many times he helps things ever so slightly. Little push or little pull is all it takes. Sometimes just a whisper. He commands the creatures of the lake, often taking their form to fool the humans, but he has only little control of the water. Nobody can control the elements. Other times he places things in the water to make the curious girl lean over and after the shove, comes the splash. Oh…How he enjoys the Splash. He hates the lake and he loves it in equal measures, the absurdity of it drives him crazy.