The River

There once was a group of people who build a town so that they would be safe, no matter what. They made the walls incredibly high and incredibly thick; so it was always dark inside, and cold, and all things would turn mouldy. But the people thought all that better than to have to be terrified of attack; and they shivered together in the wet dark and told each other how lucky they were. Then, one day, there was a storm and somewhere, a lake burst its banks. It became a rushing river of bright, clear water and it tore straight towards the dank, dark town.

The inhabitants fled in terror just before the water made short work of the thick black walls, and they watched from a hill as their town was simply washed away.

On that night, the moon was bright; the air was sweetly scented and the grass soft and juicy, and as the survivors from the town looked around themselves, they began to realise that the new river just might have saved their souls, after all.