Shore’s Mourning

It was a serene evening. A small river meandered its way through some rocky terrain. A country raft was floating gently downstream, carrying a small family of maybe about three or four persons, along with their precious treasure – a couple of goats. They were perhaps migrating from their village in search of greener pastures. The sun was about to set in the western horizon. Everything was so quiet that nobody had an inkling of the impending disaster.

Suddenly, without any warning, a huge mass of water came gushing down, swallowing everything in its path. Flash floods! The screams for help were drowned. The sun disappeared from the scene quietly as if not having witnessed anything.

The floods receded just as quickly as they had come. Peace seemed to prevail again. Not really, because some waves were smashing their heads against the rocks and sobbing, as the shore silently mourned the loss of innocent lives.

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