Everything was dismal and full of dirt.
The wind blew fiercely.
The sun was burning horribly.
It seemed a western movie.
I felt the dust cutting my throat.
We had to cross a dried river.
There was no bridge to cross it, but some local people offered to help us.
They were selling a service, standing on the dried river.
They had long wooden sticks and they employed them to avoid drowning.
It seemed a silly business.
The river was dried out.
My wife smiled to me.
She had found it silly, too.
She started to cross the dried river by herself.
Local people looked at her with astonishment and worry.
I was so confident about the situation that for a moment I looked to the landscape.
It was so impressive.
The old dirty town had turned into a beautiful forest.
I sighed and smelled the perfume of the trees.
My throat was so clean and my lungs were so open.
I felt so alive.
When I looked where my wife was, I saw a small and violent water stream running out from East to West.
It was too late to warn her.
It happened as it does in movies.
My wife dissapeared in a few seconds.
The water stream had covered her up.
Though the level of water was so low and I could stand easily, there was no sign of my wife.
Soon I became frightened and worried.
Suddenly, the water stream disappeared.
The river was dried out again, but still there was no sign of my wife.
I started to dig desperately into the dirt with my bare hands.
I thought my wife was buried and that she was about to stop breathing.
I envisioned a terrible scene of my wife dying.
My hands started to bleed.
I wanted to dig so fast but I was so weak.
I picked up the wooden stick to employ it as a shovel.
It was heavy as an axe.
I felt so useless and hopeless.
I didn't want to think, but I just thought how my wife was suffering.
I woke up sweating and I saw my wife beside me.
I held her hand tightly.
Down By The River By Neil Young & Crazy Horse
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