Oblivious Short Stories

The river gathers in a bay and goes on swirling and foaming into the mouth from both side of the shores, gulping down in the middle by a granite shaped throat. Well inside its neck the water seems calmer but the bridled power generates an energy which opens up to a third unseen shore.

It is here in the narrowest part of the borderlands, as the shortest distance between the two neighboring countries is a significant alienation, a distinct out of reach. Although the differences between the two sides are diffuse in its presence, except for, that the other side is on the opposite side.

The Invisible people walk from the third beach along the landscape of the two other visible shores. For these people, it is all interconnected: the lines of the shores, the rocks, the standing trees of the forest and the leveling of the mountains. While the visible people apprehend that they find something here, but really can’t understand how it can be connected.

I walked along upstream on smooth rocks and round stones of many sizes. Jumped over the pouring stream of a connecting creek and let my soul pace among the invisible people on both sides of the shores though my sorrow made my flesh blind. The mind has started a voyage to the upper springs of the river; still it lingers in the air and the view of the sky meeting the water in its opening of the landscape.

Here we are close and remote, all at once. It seems as we will end up here when we left joy and sorrows in the existence of our lives. We are at the border of the lands that is divided just because they seem as an opposite, a converse of what belongs to our side. We might as well be on the other side and yet definitely on the neither side.