What the River Gave MeBy William Burger
THE RIVER looked the same as it had in my dreams.
The dreams, the remembrances of that day, haunted me. The memories drifted deep within the crevices of my mind, floating up as daylight died, submerging all other thoughts in the icy waters of my consciousness.
Somewhere beneath the surface of the river, hidden within one of the memories, resided an evil. Every night I looked into the eyes of the demon that inhabited my mind, and I remembered the truth about the river.
But when I woke, I forgot, though sometimes a fragment of a memory lingered. It darted away from me like an eel, back to the caves of my mind, leaving nothing but a ripple in its wake. A memory of a memory.
Then everything changed, my life splitting in two—a before and an after. Af
