I agree with so many comments here. Beautiful writing. Lovely storytelling reduced to minimal essentials. Nothing I can add except the following.
A few years ago I saw a beautiful little mini documentary about a man who had, decades before, rescued several boys from drowning off the Maine coast, and how years later their lives are forever intertwined. The factual basis is different, but the astoundingly noteworthy thing, to me, is that your story put words to the meditative and magical feeling that that true story left me with. Your story has recalled it for me. Well done and thanks.
Sorry I can’t find a link to the doco, but it was perhaps 5 years ago.
What an interesting intertwining of stories. I can imagine how it felt for you to overlay one story on the other and still sense the same feeling. It’s such a nice moment. Thank you for sharing this.
That moment of honesty, acknowledging that his motivation was to merely feel like he existed, was so poignant. Somehow deeper and yet more commonplace than any other motivation like pride or altruism. A clutching for meaning when all other things fade.
Thank you for reading it so carefully. I’m glad you saw what I was wondering about. It still feels like magic to me that my idea can be seen so clearly through my story.
This is so philosophicaaaal. The old man who went from a hero to an ignored, nearly de facto ostracised man. Him doing something just to prove he exists. Him wondering whether he's a good person. Him deciding to get rid of the newspaper he so dearly carried with him for so long due to a present situation. Just wow. See, and the thing I liked the most: nothing really happened, we just got to know an interesting character through a mundane (although getting rid of the newspaper wasn't mundane at all) scene. Bravo :)
This is amazing. Thank you for this wonderful mirror. I would have never seen my stories this way if it was not for your comment. You are right, nothing is going on. This is quite funny, really.
Alexandra, what I really appreciated here is how the story lets significance shrink rather than expand.
Instead of chasing the drama of the past rescue, it stays with erosion — of memory, certainty, and visibility — and allows meaning to re-emerge at a much smaller scale.
The river works beautifully as both setting and logic.
It doesn’t symbolize so much as behave: Carrying things off, blurring edges, continuing regardless.
And that makes the old man’s memories feel less like flashback and more like current — something he’s standing inside without fully controlling.
I was especially struck by the honesty around the rescue itself.
The admission that what mattered wasn’t the boy’s life but the proof of existence complicates the usual hero narrative in a way that feels brave and true. It prepares the ground for the beetle moment, which isn’t redemption or repetition, but choice — quieter, humbler, and more durable.
The final gesture with the newspaper lands because it costs something real, even if only symbolically. It’s not about being seen again; it’s about acting while unseen.
A calm, meditative piece that trusts attention to do the work — and lets presence, rather than legacy, be enough.
You saw the story so clearly. It still feels like magic to me when something that used to be an almost impalpable idea is transferred to another mind with such precision. I am mesmerized by the process.
Thank you so much for saying that, Maria, especially about the river. I don't think I had this thought before -- that other people would feel the same way near a river.
I have them whenever I’m gazing into a river. I felt it. I go specifically for this purpose, rivers make us see the essence and flow of life. The movement forever changing, constant, free and holds onto nothing.
First of all, I'm sorry it's taken me awhile to check out your work - I promised I'd have a proper read weeks back and then got busy. Secondly: this is fantastic! It feels like such an honest reflection of those private thoughts - good and bad - that come to us all when we're alone; the intellectual desire to prove one's existence is keenly felt here, but it also seems to be contrasted against a natural decency or desire to do good that your protagonist can't quiet admit to. Your prose, too, is lovely. Sparse without being overly minimalist; evocative without being florid. I think 'restrained' might be the best word. I'm reminded a little of Ursula K. LeGuin's style, though of course you're doing something quite different with the same tools. A lovely tale, all in all, and I'm very glad I finally got round to it!
Your comment is such a treasure and a gift for me. Thank you so much! I feel like you've read and understood the story exactly the way I hoped this story would be understood. It feels like magic, actually.
I've been compared to Le Guin on multiple occasions now. After it happened for the first time, I tried reading one of her books but it probably was a wrong book to start with, and I should try again.
I'm really happy you've read this story, but I never thought you were obliged to. I don't follow this rule. I just read what I want and let people do the same. I'll always be happy and grateful for your attention to my stories, of course.
You’re very welcome — and I’m glad I got what you were trying to get at. It’s a marvellous piece! And don’t worry: I wasn’t reading out of a sense of obligation. I glanced at your Substack ages back and was really interested in the type of work you were doing — it’s just that I only just found the time to sit down and read something you’d written properly. You’re a remarkable writer with a great many interesting ideas and deserve to be more widely read. :)
It's interesting that you said this about the newspaper. It felt the same way to me -- that there was a sense of something magical, even though the story was realistic.
Thank you so much for reading and leaving your comment.
This is so cool, Alexandra and well done for challenging yourself to write a realist story. Your descriptions are spot on and the language flows. The doctor is a great character—the right ratio of unique and universal. A really enjoyable read.
Meditative is the word that comes to mind. Great job
Thank you!
Yes! yes!
This was really moving. We watch it happen to our parents and loved ones as they age, as time passes … thank you for writing it down
I loved
Time had erased the certainty. Each year went over that feeling like an eraser over a pencil drawing.
Thank you so much for reading so deeply.
Oh, this story really resonated.
It's as if The Dog is the only sentient being that understands x
Thank you for sharing this. Animals always know what's truly important.
I agree with so many comments here. Beautiful writing. Lovely storytelling reduced to minimal essentials. Nothing I can add except the following.
A few years ago I saw a beautiful little mini documentary about a man who had, decades before, rescued several boys from drowning off the Maine coast, and how years later their lives are forever intertwined. The factual basis is different, but the astoundingly noteworthy thing, to me, is that your story put words to the meditative and magical feeling that that true story left me with. Your story has recalled it for me. Well done and thanks.
Sorry I can’t find a link to the doco, but it was perhaps 5 years ago.
What an interesting intertwining of stories. I can imagine how it felt for you to overlay one story on the other and still sense the same feeling. It’s such a nice moment. Thank you for sharing this.
That moment of honesty, acknowledging that his motivation was to merely feel like he existed, was so poignant. Somehow deeper and yet more commonplace than any other motivation like pride or altruism. A clutching for meaning when all other things fade.
Lovely words.
Thank you for reading it so carefully. I’m glad you saw what I was wondering about. It still feels like magic to me that my idea can be seen so clearly through my story.
This is so philosophicaaaal. The old man who went from a hero to an ignored, nearly de facto ostracised man. Him doing something just to prove he exists. Him wondering whether he's a good person. Him deciding to get rid of the newspaper he so dearly carried with him for so long due to a present situation. Just wow. See, and the thing I liked the most: nothing really happened, we just got to know an interesting character through a mundane (although getting rid of the newspaper wasn't mundane at all) scene. Bravo :)
This is amazing. Thank you for this wonderful mirror. I would have never seen my stories this way if it was not for your comment. You are right, nothing is going on. This is quite funny, really.
I am happy you liked the story. :)
Alexandra, what I really appreciated here is how the story lets significance shrink rather than expand.
Instead of chasing the drama of the past rescue, it stays with erosion — of memory, certainty, and visibility — and allows meaning to re-emerge at a much smaller scale.
The river works beautifully as both setting and logic.
It doesn’t symbolize so much as behave: Carrying things off, blurring edges, continuing regardless.
And that makes the old man’s memories feel less like flashback and more like current — something he’s standing inside without fully controlling.
I was especially struck by the honesty around the rescue itself.
The admission that what mattered wasn’t the boy’s life but the proof of existence complicates the usual hero narrative in a way that feels brave and true. It prepares the ground for the beetle moment, which isn’t redemption or repetition, but choice — quieter, humbler, and more durable.
The final gesture with the newspaper lands because it costs something real, even if only symbolically. It’s not about being seen again; it’s about acting while unseen.
A calm, meditative piece that trusts attention to do the work — and lets presence, rather than legacy, be enough.
Really liked it!
Oh, Mark, what a comment. It is such a treasure.
You saw the story so clearly. It still feels like magic to me when something that used to be an almost impalpable idea is transferred to another mind with such precision. I am mesmerized by the process.
Thank you.
Thank you for the writing 😊
A beautiful, contemplative and meditative story. Exactly the kind of thoughts one would have while alone and looking into a river.
Thank you so much for saying that, Maria, especially about the river. I don't think I had this thought before -- that other people would feel the same way near a river.
I have them whenever I’m gazing into a river. I felt it. I go specifically for this purpose, rivers make us see the essence and flow of life. The movement forever changing, constant, free and holds onto nothing.
I absolutely love how you said it. Thank you for sharing this.
First of all, I'm sorry it's taken me awhile to check out your work - I promised I'd have a proper read weeks back and then got busy. Secondly: this is fantastic! It feels like such an honest reflection of those private thoughts - good and bad - that come to us all when we're alone; the intellectual desire to prove one's existence is keenly felt here, but it also seems to be contrasted against a natural decency or desire to do good that your protagonist can't quiet admit to. Your prose, too, is lovely. Sparse without being overly minimalist; evocative without being florid. I think 'restrained' might be the best word. I'm reminded a little of Ursula K. LeGuin's style, though of course you're doing something quite different with the same tools. A lovely tale, all in all, and I'm very glad I finally got round to it!
Your comment is such a treasure and a gift for me. Thank you so much! I feel like you've read and understood the story exactly the way I hoped this story would be understood. It feels like magic, actually.
I've been compared to Le Guin on multiple occasions now. After it happened for the first time, I tried reading one of her books but it probably was a wrong book to start with, and I should try again.
I'm really happy you've read this story, but I never thought you were obliged to. I don't follow this rule. I just read what I want and let people do the same. I'll always be happy and grateful for your attention to my stories, of course.
You’re very welcome — and I’m glad I got what you were trying to get at. It’s a marvellous piece! And don’t worry: I wasn’t reading out of a sense of obligation. I glanced at your Substack ages back and was really interested in the type of work you were doing — it’s just that I only just found the time to sit down and read something you’d written properly. You’re a remarkable writer with a great many interesting ideas and deserve to be more widely read. :)
I'm really touched. Thank you!
No worries — happy to give you a much-deserved ego boost!
There’s magic in the newspaper, yet the story felt real the whole time. Another good read, looking forward to the next.
It's interesting that you said this about the newspaper. It felt the same way to me -- that there was a sense of something magical, even though the story was realistic.
Thank you so much for reading and leaving your comment.
It's the headline in the newspaper that gives it that edge, and perhaps a bigger clue about the story itself.
Thank you for sharing your stories. They're always very good. It inspired me to write today.
It means a lot to me, Beckie. Thank you!
This is so cool, Alexandra and well done for challenging yourself to write a realist story. Your descriptions are spot on and the language flows. The doctor is a great character—the right ratio of unique and universal. A really enjoyable read.
I really appreciate your comment, Stefan. Thank you!
I love the way you saw it. Thank you.
Thank you so much for reading and for thinking about it, Corey. Yes, this is exactly the way I saw it too.