He perched on a rock, tilting his face to the sun and listening to the trickling stream. It used to snake through the woods, rushing by this spot. A dip in the earth, full of fresh water splashing up and over boulders like the one he sat on.
At least that’s what they told him. He had never heard the water crashing into stones and trees. Sometimes he thought about what clean water would taste like. He imagined it was sweet, like berries.
The elders knew. They knew the river was drying up and they prayed.
February25 Prompt: River (Write a story that includes a river and a person. Who is experiencing the water? How can a river and a character merge with meaning?)
Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch