The River Flows
by Randal Houle
the river flows in the direction of forgetting, powerful enough to move rocks like a bull to Padilla, but powerless against the memory of the earth-bank and the river flows, through a susurrus field of a million quills, a shock sends a flock to heaven as a parchment, but the river flows to forgetting, even as the sky is darkened by their wings, and fields of quill-grass turns to sand, the river flows and flows and drowns all it knows, if it flowed with ink, and emptied, a million quills could not bring it back, but the river flows to forgetting.
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Author's Note
I wrote this as an exercise in an Amherst Writing Workshop.
Selections from Marislav Penkov, Karen Russell, and Charles D'Ambrosio in part inspired this attempt.
Other stories by Randal Houle
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"if it flowed with ink, and emptied, a million quills could not bring it back, but the river flows to forgetting."
Lovely work. ***
Carried me right along. Forgetting sometimes can seem more important than remembering.
Excellent, Randal!
*
Beautiful flowing lines.
Flows beautifully. Also, I like writing exercises. Pithiness can be powerful.
This is wonderful! What Rachna said.
"a shock sends a flock to heaven as a parchment, but the river flows to forgetting, even as the sky is darkened by their wing"
Lyrical and sensual. A delight to read. *
Beautiful
Thank you, Jill, Charlotte, Kitty, Marcus, Erika, Bill, Matthew, Rachna... Your kindness is appreciated.