As Do Tears

Photo © Roger Bultot

The river only flows one way, the saying goes. Yet our people have rowed against this current for generations.

I remember the flotilla leaving: all angry, pre-triumphant cheers.  Now the boats move silently, carrying the last of our wealth.  Replacement weapons, replacement food, replacement men.

Nothing meaningful returns.

Last night I dreamt I saw him, floating downstream under a sunset sky.  False hope, I know. Nobody leaves the siege except by death, and those are buried there, in foreign earth.

Still, I hope.  For the river of my heart only flows one way, and to reverse course would break it.

Word count: 100.  Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers flash fiction challenge.  Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting!  Click on the link to join in and/or read the other 100-word stories written for this prompt.


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