short fiction · 2026-10-22

Backward River of Memory

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the quiet of an unremembered night I imagined a river that ran opposite to the current of time, its waters pulling memories backward toward the source. Each ripple carried fragments of childhood laughter, whispered secrets, and the faint scent of rain on distant hills, while the banks dissolved into mist as if erased by the very flow. The paradox of seeing the past as if it were a forward journey gave way to a strange comfort, a reminder that forgetting is also a kind of cleansing. I walked along its edge, feeling the contradictory pull, and understood that memory, like water, always seeks direction yet can be turned around by the mind’s own intention.