Drabble 77 – Salvific

Drabble 77 – Salvific

Horva River by Ib Aarmo

I’ve been worried the past few weeks. To say what about would be to never stop talking. I could open my mouth and all my worries would spill out, and what would be left is an empty sack of flesh and bone because, some days, I feel like I am a ball of worry with only a little life sustaining it.

Sometimes my worries ease themselves and I find there was nothing to be concerned about. Sometimes they increase with every passing day, until the few, quick moments when I’m not thinking about them are the most blissful part of my day. I imagine this is going to be the new normal for some time.

Still, I find things to keep me going. Even if it’s like trudging through a swamp in sodden denim and weighted boots, I’ll keep walking until I find what’s on the other side.

Anyway, here’s a drabble.


(a.) From Latin salvus for ‘safe’

The intent or power to save.

They said the river would wash your sins away. They said the cold would nip into your bones and pull the sins out of you, dragging them downstream to drown in the ocean. They said it didn’t hurt, but for the cold.

People came from miles around to see if it was true. Rich folks with gold buttons and poor folks with no shoes, all of them carrying sin etched in every line on their face. Old folks buoyed along on canes and young kids howling and flailing for fear of the unknown.

Nobody ever came back from the river.

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