RJ--in rivers--with our realities

The river was there again. Flowing thick and wide, way past the screen and off the keyboard on either side. She could see the sheen flicker and dapple on the cresting wavelets as they passed under the desk, under the monitor. She looked up at the top of the screen into the distance on the river and saw the tip of a broad island, the tops of its trees still green--even in the onrushing winter.

Her hand reached out to touch the water and passed through the monitor as if it were merely the reflection of a window from somewhere else. She did not turn to look at the cause of the reflection, but put her other hand out. Her feet pushed on the carpet and the chair rolled backwards as she stood up.

She felt the warm smooth plastic of the monitor pass for her forehead as she tensed to dive. Brought her hands, which now seemed somehow foreshortened in the glossy screen, together. Bent her head in the proper dive position. Pushed off the carpet with her feet. And soared into the computer.

The dark cold of the water ran into her bones.

a river's secrets / depend on / how much / we need to / configure / its destinations / with our realities

if there are / other waters / we can not / know them / all we see / in rivers / is their presence