5 minutes of random words. No conclusion.

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The river was long, and wound through the trees like a snake between its handler's palms: cool, rigid, smooth.

It mocked him.

He remembered when he was six, he had put one foot in. Then the other. The waters--dark, too dark to see the bottom even at that position--whipped around him with flurrying force.

"You can do it," said the goading whisper of his brother. "C'mon. You can swim."

He was six, then. When he awoke, he was seven. It wasn't really important, he thought, what had happened--the fact he'd been sucked away to the bottom and almost drowned, put into a coma. Not at all.