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| The dam that wasn't. |
The old dam gets more holes in it every year. Trees grow out of it and sometimes through it,
and the water just mocks it. Water is
ill-behaved at best, and that’s no secret.
New little waterfalls crop up every year, and each year they get bigger
and bigger, threatening to smash the confines of the old levee. Someday the whole thing will just burst and wash
away, like a giant beaver’s dam flowing down the river, and people will point
to it and say, “Oh, dear! What will we
do now?” to which I will respond, “The same thing we have always done.”
Nothing. We will
do nothing. It’s November. It’s time for the ghost portion of the
year. We will do nothing.
