Sophie told Amy parts of the story, shifting a bit in the frigid creek water to get a better hold on the slippery rocks. "It began with the credit card guy" she said. "I know you should never buy things over the phone, but I heard on National Public Radio that banks were merging and that if you paid your bills on time the banks couldn't make any money off of you and they will take away your credit card, so you should have at least two. Credit cards that is, not banks. So I called this nice young man at the telephone company because they were offering free cards and 120 minutes of long distance besides. He just kept rolling out these mechanical phrases as though he were a million miles away and wasn't really paying attention. But I wanted that credit card anyway, so I gave him my most intimate details."

"And what were those?" Amy snorted, lifting her grandmother out of the creek and drying her carefully with the thick burgundy towels her mother Kit kept for company or special occasions only. Sophie recognized the towels and winked broadly.

"My social security number, what do you think? And my address, salary (retired, thank you very much), my full name, mother's maiden name (but I don't think that is much of a secret around Boulder, dear, just about everyone knows that as well as they know about old Ichiro's buddhist chants on Pearl Street Mall, even before the Mall was built). Anyway, they said they would let me know in a few weeks. I forgot to ask his name though, so I hadn't the foggiest who to call back about it." Sophie wrapped the towel around her and shivered with dignity.

in water / breathe deep-- / understand / that there can be / no differences between / air and water / symbol / and symbolized

the word is / the sound / of water / dripping from/ ancient symbols / tiny particles / of merging / realities

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