I sat beside the river, carefully, staying away from the tides, on that un-textured land formed by depositions of sand and man, or the ones who used to be alive, but now just a part of them resides on these pavements, where I feel their vibes.
I feel their cries, they speak about life, speak about their pain, ones they incurred while alive. Their soul, trapped somewhere between the merger plane of land and sea, in the light they can’t describe; they are asking me to leave this place, this ground, where I don’t belong. But how can I?
This place where I wish to spend some time, feel the wind taking away sweat from my skin, layer by layer. The same wind that disturbs the waves of the river, which flow like a flying snakes between the two sides, carrying my vibes to the other bank where someone like me is staring these trails, feeling the warmth of the sun-baked bank and this cold humid breeze at the same time.
How can I leave without trampling mud with my footprints, writing my name with a stick and seeing that being carried away by the flow of this river, reaching someone away, away in this human form, but near to my soul, waiting for my call; how can I leave this river?
But you should, said the caged voice, for it’s a trap, and you are the rat, attracted by these vibes just like we were, and look what it has done, slaved us to fill this land with our tears, what else is the river you see my dear.
I felt terrified. But then tears attracted my mind and I stared again into the river reflecting the sun, till it drowned into night. The voices had died by time, and all I felt was warm inside.
“I don’t know what I should, but I will return for it makes me feel alive.” I replied.
The Puzzle Maker