Flute Dream

The river, as he sang of it, rushed down from the hills like a roistering vandal, dark and wild; with gnashing teeth it fought against the constraint of mills and arching bridges; it loathed every boat it had to carry, and in its waves and long green waterweed it smilingly cradled the white corpses of the drowned.

-“Flute Dream,” Strange News from Another Star, Hermann Hesse

[Image source: WhiteRiver.ca]

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