The River
Sal was born on the bank of the river. Her family had been riparian stock for generations. Yet she hated the river and everything about it. It rushed past them and it carried the flotsam and jetsam of thousands of others’ misfortune.
The dark soul of the river was calling to her, it always did. It wanted her to become a part of it. To run away with it to the sea or ocean or wherever it ended up. Her family had told her that the river spoke to everyone, and to ignore it.
She couldn’t though, and jumped in.
For other short stories, check out my list below
If you liked this post, follow me or get on my email list for future posts. Some may even be more enjoyable than this one.
You can find articles I have already published here.
And feel free to clap (any will do), or highlight (pick something at random), or comment (any old gobbledygook will do), or best yet all three.