A 2022 Story Part 11
You can read part 10 here: https://www.melindacoppola.com/little-stream-an…22-story-part-10
Part 11
“Lily Pond?” Little Stream called out again and again without answer into the bright air. Her voice was thin and tired, and it seemed to blow away in the wind. The long, odd journey she’d been on felt like a dream.
Little could feel her edges growing fuzzy as the new, tangy water splashed over them and into her center. She was far too exhausted to shake the strange drops from her body or pull in her edges tighter. The sun was dazzling in this new place, reflecting off the endless dark waters. It reminded Little of the dew that shimmered in summer morning grasses back when she was just a quiet stream rolling through green meadows. She felt a pang of sadness just then, thinking about her old life. The warmth felt good on her surface, though, and she began to soften, even relax a little. And so she floated and sloshed in the huge tangy brine and allowed herself to rest.
After what seemed like a long, long time, Little Stream felt a tug on her side. Startled, she pushed back against it with the energy she could muster. There it was again, a single strong poke in her side. And then she heard it. “Little Stream!!!” It was Wee Lily Pond!
Little was overjoyed to feel her friend beside her once again. She had so many questions, but her thoughts were tangled and she could barely form the words to squeeze out before Lily spoke again.
“Isn’t this amazing? The sun is strong and happy! Have you played with this new water yet? Do you know where I think we are? I think….I think we are in the ocean!!! The birds and the wind told me about this place, but I never thought it was real!”
Little Stream shrank back as she considered this new information. The ocean? She’d heard a little about that long ago from the insects that used to skim her surface. They’d hummed and buzzed about a giant water under big skies, with slick hungry creatures that snapped up some of their ancestors. A chatty bird told her once that ocean is where rivers go when they die.
‘Oh, Lily!!!” Little Stream wailed. “I don’t want to die!!”
To Be Continued….