The River That Forgot Us
1 min read·April 30, 2026·
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The river once knew our names. Our reflections meant something in its waters.
We drank from it without worries, and its music resounded through the valley like a prophecy.
But the river became weaker every year, and the fields cracked under the silent rays of the sun.
Every evening, my father walks to the riverbank, expecting what will not return any more.
I stand by his side and understand that the river did not leave – we have lost it gradually.
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