Falling into the River

“He tried to beat me a couple times.”

They stood at the edge of a river that had once known greatness, been the site of a famous battle in some ancient war. Everyone who knew why the two sides had fought was long dead, with only stories passed down by descendants, distorted by time.

“It's because I'm not from around here. I'm fresh fish.”

Fresh fish. It was a funny expression that he'd picked up somewhere along the way. He looked down at the flowing water and imagined there might be fresh fish in it, swimming without worry until that very moment when they stopped, by force of man or nature.

“What'd you do, Leo?”

Leo smiled. It had been a long time since anyone called him by that name. The man who had tried to beat him did it. That had ended badly.

“Funny you should ask.”

Leo was watching the other man, who he'd just met in town—name of Simon—but kept a sharp eye on the river behind him. The current fascinated Leo, shifting as it did in ways that he could neither predict nor understand. If you were the kind of person who liked metaphors for life, this wasn't a terrible one.

Simon looked up, maybe at a tree or a bird. There was a stillness about this place. A man could die here and no one would ever know. It was a funny thought to have just now, but thoughts are like a river current, unpredictable and incomprehensible. They just happen. Everything just happens.

“I pushed back.”

Leo looked hard at Simon, whose upper lip had started to tremble. There was fear in his eyes, which Leo liked. He could imagine one or both of them falling into the river from here.