prevents us

It was only after Kit had had her lasagna and was recovered enough to order blackberry cheesecake and cinnamon tea that Amy started in.

"Mom," Amy began, looking down at the napkin in her lap, rather than into Kit's eyes. "We have to face this. What would you do if Anna never came back?"

The words crystallized in Kit's chest and she could say nothing. Her voice was as insignificant as a tiny gnat hovering above the sucking top of a waterfall. Her chest began to pound like the gnat's wings in what she knew was a futile attempt to keep above the unimaginably strong current.

Amy laid her hands on the table and went on. "Mom, I need to know. I need to find this for myself. Would it be easier on you and Dad and everyone if you knew for sure that Anna was not coming back, or would it be better to hold out hope?"

Again, the pain overwhelmed Kit and she could not move. They sat in silence over the uneaten cheesecake.

It had never taken Kit this long to find her strength. Still at last she breathed deeply and looked at Amy. "It would depend, I think, on the person. I would rather know--one way or the other. Get the truth out and live with it. Your father would rather keep on trying to find you--it would be his only way to keep on-- living with a thin hope than dying with nothing at all. And your grandmother--well, Sophie would keep on fighting even if she did know the truth. She'd find something to rail against --no matter how unrelated."

Amy nodded and they sat at the Harvest House a long time after the cinnamon tea was cold.

the illusion / of the depths / our rivers / carry / prevents us / from seeing / the truth

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

Follow us all: Amy/Anna, Sophie/Yuki, Kit/Richard, minor characters or sift through water leavings and river journeys.