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walking leisurely by kuskakwim, one cool night, slowly slowly you can feel the creeping winter coming, yesterday was around 28-29 & surely it’s gonna drop more. what am i expecting? surely it’s not hawaii, but feeling cold or warm is not always related to temperature, right?how many times you had this weird feeling of being cold in an extremely hot day & being warm in a cold day?

so i was walking by kuskakwim, sooner or later this river gonna freeze & it wont melt for several months.
compared it with charles, the silent river running through boston to reach ocean, the river that witnessed many lives, many deaths, the history of america & yes it’s so silent, so calm as if it’s not moving, it’s been there since i was a little kid, i walked by its side many times, on my own or with different people, there are many dark corners by its side, im sure you can still hear the song of sad coins in metal cups, calling for help. and you pass by, sometimes you look at the guy with the cup, black or white, it’s the same, asking for the same thing with the same accent. i doubt they remember the boy who walked by the river so many nights, sometimes you could hear the coin song from his pocket too trying to share his metal circles with those cups, sometimes holding hands of his girl, looking for a big rock to rest & start his guitar party. now he’s gone & only charles remembers him.

and i was walking by kuskakwim, miles away from charles, moving proudly to reach another big water, it has its own story, witnessed another history, there’s no long sad song of coins by its side, its lively happy whispers & shouts, whenever it escape from its icy cage, it gives life, it gives happiness, not at all mean like charles, in warm summer days it feeds many families, it washes away the pain of long cold winters, so it cant be silent, when it’s moving it wants the world to hear him.

then i was walking by kuskakwim, her little warm hand holding my little finger, she put all her fears in her little hand & gave it to me, singing happily with the river, laughing as if there’s nothing in this planet that can harm her cos she’s holding my hand. sometimes she turned her head to look for her mom, i followed her looks & there she was, sitting calmly on a rock with a big smile ensuring her little angel that she’s waiting there till she comes back.

so it’s time to end my torture. i’ve been thinking about that night for a long time, i’ve thought enough, so much that i cant hear the sirens anymore, there’s no smell of burning fuel & blood in the air, it’s so vague now, it’s an old memory, nothing that i wanna keep in my heart, so this year i wrote my last letter, i’ve been through so many sad & happy days that it seemed it was more than a year but it wasnt, & i’ve grown-up, i dumped the boy when i left boston, so why not forget the rest.

so i was standing by kuskakwim, the river i started my new life by its side & i let it carry away my last mail cos this time i didnt wanna burn it, i watched it go, a few tears and i erased the memory, i wont let it bother me again. so “goodbye mom, goodbye dad” , i know they are watching me, they’re always with me but only the good memories, thanks for loving me thanks for sharing your life, thanks for dedicating yourselves, i’ve learned my lessons & i promise to try my best to be as responsible as dad and as caring as mom, i love you for ever.

and in the distance i could hear meg calling my name, so did alexis in her weird language that it so much sounded like “dad” to my ears, i looked at the river again & there was no sign of my letter.

and i was running by the side of kuskakwim to join my family, there was an hour drive on the trails to get back home & it was getting dark.

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