Rivers
Title: Rivers
Length: Drabble
Word Count: 536
Rating: G
A/N: Because I finished my test half an hour earlier than everyone else, and because I've had this in my head all night. Dedicated to everkitsune, Kit ma belle. Saranghayeo~
You once said to me, we are like rivers.
Starting high up in the mountains, beginning our voyage alone. The frigid air freezes our surface, creating a layer of ice. The ice is thin in some places, and sometimes it breaks, but it is always there. It can both protect us and hurt us at the same time… Like a never ending paradox. But even underneath the ice, water still flows, chilled and slowed but never stopping completely.
Warmer air breaks the ice for a final time, and it floats along with us, chunks of what remained. Perhaps we’re afraid to see that last, thin layer melt away, because as much as it hurt us, it kept us safe too. Now our waters are open to the air, open to whatever may enter it, whether it be the gentle caress of the falling leaves or the harsh disturbance of a mudslide. When the latter happens, you begin to wonder if it was really so bad being covered in ice after all.
We cross paths with other rivers, other bodies of water. Some of them flow by so fast; they leave us behind watching with such longing, because we can’t follow. Some don’t move, staying in one place, and we are forced to leave them behind because we must move on. It’s hard to decide which is worse, being left behind or the one leaving… And you have to wonder if those who left you had really wanted to, or if they were dragged along their path by the same force pulling you.
Time speeds up and slows down. Our waters rush over fast-moving streams, race through rapids and tumble down waterfalls. Then, the next second, we’re in a basin, and it may take days before we leave and continue on our way. We can’t control it, none of us can. We can just continue flowing along, sometimes slowing but never stopping completely.
Sometimes we pass into colder, lonelier territories. Sometimes the ice returns, and by now we almost welcome it. After being trampled in so many times, left behind and leaving others behind, it’s easier not to reach the surface. The urge to stay under the ice is strong, but you’re still moving, and almost too soon, that protective layer is breaking yet again. It’s easy to be afraid. You are afraid.
But still, we keep moving. We are pelted with acid rain, tossed back and forth by the unforgiving rocks, with various substances dumped into us until our waters are no longer that pure crystal they were in the mountains so long ago.
And then we spill out into the ocean.
That is where we meet.
The dirt and grime falls to the bottom of the ocean, harming us no more.
We are still moving, still traveling, but this time we are doing it together. There was no set path to follow, no separation, and we can float along the current in each other’s company. This is what we were aiming for all this time. This was what we left the mountains for, tolerated the ice and the waterfalls and the loneliness.
And I don’t know about you, but I think it was worth it.
Length: Drabble
Word Count: 536
Rating: G
A/N: Because I finished my test half an hour earlier than everyone else, and because I've had this in my head all night. Dedicated to everkitsune, Kit ma belle. Saranghayeo~
You once said to me, we are like rivers.
Starting high up in the mountains, beginning our voyage alone. The frigid air freezes our surface, creating a layer of ice. The ice is thin in some places, and sometimes it breaks, but it is always there. It can both protect us and hurt us at the same time… Like a never ending paradox. But even underneath the ice, water still flows, chilled and slowed but never stopping completely.
Warmer air breaks the ice for a final time, and it floats along with us, chunks of what remained. Perhaps we’re afraid to see that last, thin layer melt away, because as much as it hurt us, it kept us safe too. Now our waters are open to the air, open to whatever may enter it, whether it be the gentle caress of the falling leaves or the harsh disturbance of a mudslide. When the latter happens, you begin to wonder if it was really so bad being covered in ice after all.
We cross paths with other rivers, other bodies of water. Some of them flow by so fast; they leave us behind watching with such longing, because we can’t follow. Some don’t move, staying in one place, and we are forced to leave them behind because we must move on. It’s hard to decide which is worse, being left behind or the one leaving… And you have to wonder if those who left you had really wanted to, or if they were dragged along their path by the same force pulling you.
Time speeds up and slows down. Our waters rush over fast-moving streams, race through rapids and tumble down waterfalls. Then, the next second, we’re in a basin, and it may take days before we leave and continue on our way. We can’t control it, none of us can. We can just continue flowing along, sometimes slowing but never stopping completely.
Sometimes we pass into colder, lonelier territories. Sometimes the ice returns, and by now we almost welcome it. After being trampled in so many times, left behind and leaving others behind, it’s easier not to reach the surface. The urge to stay under the ice is strong, but you’re still moving, and almost too soon, that protective layer is breaking yet again. It’s easy to be afraid. You are afraid.
But still, we keep moving. We are pelted with acid rain, tossed back and forth by the unforgiving rocks, with various substances dumped into us until our waters are no longer that pure crystal they were in the mountains so long ago.
And then we spill out into the ocean.
That is where we meet.
The dirt and grime falls to the bottom of the ocean, harming us no more.
We are still moving, still traveling, but this time we are doing it together. There was no set path to follow, no separation, and we can float along the current in each other’s company. This is what we were aiming for all this time. This was what we left the mountains for, tolerated the ice and the waterfalls and the loneliness.
And I don’t know about you, but I think it was worth it.