Monday, February 18, 2013

Divide and Converge

Author's note: This piece is a sudden fiction written during my 4th hour class. Can you find the symbolism in this story?



The Seine River traveled along, quickened by the spring melt-off. On both banks, the murky water rose, churning swirls of foam onto the crests of miniature waves. At the Ile de la Cite, the waters abruptly divided, splitting into two separate paths while the obstacle remained stolidly in place.

She looked down at her hands and blinked back the tears. He gulped. This was not the way he had envisioned it.

She looked up then, and a wayward tear spilled over, forming a small stream down her cheek. "It's just that-- To find out this way…" Her words drifted off.

"Oh…you're right. I should have told you."

There was an uncomfortable moment that lasted an eternity. Overhead, the robins sang in the bare arms of the trees.

Finally, she spoke. "Well…I suppose you've told me now. And it's over?" She arched an eyebrow, and he nodded emphatically. "Good," she said, nodding herself. "Then it's done. We never need to speak of this again."

She stood and took his arm.

At the southern end of the Ile de la Cite, the Seine River converged once more and continued on its way.

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