Just a trickle, nothing more. Soon rain and more rain, and later: a flood. In time, the water shifted from a small still pool and embraced gravity. It moved in a line over rocks and trees and cities and towns. A whole world covered in water. A whole world outside the water. The river gained speed and coursed through the valley it had made. What started as a clear stream merged into something muddy and full of catfish and mayflies and other things that fell and disappeared into the dark water. In the beginning, a mayfly has no wings. She lies buried until it is time to emerge. Once she reaches the surface and removes herself from the mud, she is altered. In dreams, I walk through mud. I fall into it and feel changed. My ladies are always there, as they are always here with me now. I began as a girl. She began as me. I pull myself up and out and stand with water streaming from my limbs and hair. I am a fountain. The ancient story of girls who followed each other one by one into the river and never came back is repeated until the story becomes a story of only one girl who follows nothing and goes into the river alone.
