And They Wept

I am a sucker for reccursiveness, ambiguity and similitude. This story came out of nowhere from within the pages just like the tears in the story.

When the springs ran out one Spring morning all of the village wept deeply.

Some hundred years later they were no longer the place of harmony and retreat; the Thousand Springs. With one fall, and of no fault of their own, they've been defined anew.

The Last Droplet of the Autumn. A wise elder proclaimed on the centennial anniversary of the rivers dry. "We've wept too little, too short, and too few." Beloved by all he died at the exact moment the springs have years ago. The village cried out a river until they turned to spring.