Rivers of Blood

A Story by Chris Newton

a [very] short piece describing the sad tale of life

Rivers of Blood:

There is a river flowing through this world. At its source, it is clear. Along the way, various tributaries feed it, diluting it, while at the same time, making it stronger. Slowly, as it flows through life, it grows stronger, and changes colour.

This is the river of blood. Signifying life, and death.

Soon after it’s birth, a babbling brook full of children joins the river of blood. This brook brings fun and laughter to the river, and for a while the river flows clean and happy.

The stream of tears joins the river of blood close to its source. This stream signifies the pain and suffering that happens on the river’s journey. These tears come from some of the children. The water is milky and sad.

Not long after the tears, a stream of fauna flows into the river of blood. Fauna of all sorts, wild and domestic. This stream is pink. The abuse suffered by animals since the advent of humans is apparent.

A canal of fingerprints is next. Each fingerprint is unique, and as this man-made canal is diverted into the river of blood, the water becomes turbulent and noisy. Now the river contains everybody’s identity. It is becoming strong and powerful. The stronger it becomes, the greedier it gets.

Next, tributaries of religions join up. Each one of these tributaries brings it’s own idea’s of how life should be lived. The ideas are conflicting. Arguments ensue and the blood river is now flowing over rapids and waterfalls. Pushing and shoving, the flow grows desperate in its fight to keep moving. It becomes darker…, and darker.

Meanwhile, there are hundreds, even thousands of small streams entering the main river. The streams of kindness and love. The streams of hope. The streams of healing. The streams of common sense.

Each of these streams is clear and cool. Each of these streams is attempting to calm the river with its contents. Unfortunately, as soon as it enters the main river, it gets bashed and battered so severely that it has absolutely no effect on the blood rivers identity. No effect whatsoever!

For every one of these clear streams, there are at least ten murky streams. Streams of greed. Streams of power. Streams of stupidity. Streams of abuse. Streams of pollution. They all enter the river of blood without a second thought. They all want as much as they can get.

By now, blood river is dark red and very powerful. It seems as if nothing can stop it. There is too much of it. It is fighting with itself and is slowly devouring itself. It plunges over rapids and waterfalls, taking all who dare to touch it, with it. It is descending from the mountains onto the plains.

Reaching the plains, it slows. To the casual onlooker, it seems more gentle. This is an illusion. As it slows, it spreads out, devouring more and more. It is getting closer to its destination, and anyone trying to cross it is liable to drown.

As it nears the end, there is a fight. An attempt to push it back. This fight is brief – the blood river wins, and eventually enters the ocean. Now it is diluted and cleansed. The wonder of nature!

Slowly, it is reborn, and lives again at its source. Clear, fresh and Innocent. One less journey to make before it finally drowns in the ocean.