An Excerpt

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     Once, after some lively repartee with a rather astute jackrabbit whom the river had known for some time, it came to a small, flat clearing and flowed out, away from the woods, towards the edge of a rocky cliff.  Upon arriving in the open, it was stunned by the majestic view: like an ant looking out from the center of a crumpled and ripped piece of verdigris construction paper, the river was surrounded by a jagged, cuneiform earth.  Vast expanses of lush valleys dotted with enormous, gray boulders and bushy treetops, and soaring, snowcapped crests stretched forth before it in every direction.  The land rose and fell sharply, folding over itself in blooming corrugation, juxtaposing deep caverns against tall, vertical ridges.  Distant, looming peaks shrouded in delicate, egg-white mist appeared unnaturally tall, seeming to rise to the farthest reaches of empyrean, stabbing at heaven with their incredible height, unafraid at the prospect of poking holes in God.  A half circle of glowing orange peeked out from behind the western mountains, miniscule compared with the colossal mounds of earth surrounding; a mere pixel of light among oversized pyramids.  Soft rays of amber shone out from it, bouncing off the bottom of the clouds and casting long shadows in the world below.  The river stopped and stared.  It unfocused its vision and still couldn’t take everything in; the brilliance of the forest canopies, shining like jade in the light of the slowly setting sun, stretched way out into the peripheries of space, wrapping around the mountain like a living, green model of the universe.  A solitary white bird, wingspan like a private jet, glided gracefully through the breeze, turning summersaults over the pointed, rocky islands rising out of the bowels of the earth.  Gusts of wind stroked the leaves in the trees and a thousand animals crawled over the mountains’ surfaces; to the river’s unfocused vision, it looked like the land was breathing. 
     The river crept out farther still, enamored with the beautiful landscape.  Across the valley to the right, a sprawling tree shook with thunderous force and a shapeless cloud of black arose.  Like a giant swarm of gnats, the cloud flew away from the tree, shifting and rearranging but maintaining its structure with the fluidity of a floating, amorphous blob.  The hushed echo of distant, beating feathers pulsed through the mountains in waves like sonar.  The black mass climbed higher, expanding and elongating, recentering and condensing; each individual pulled in his own direction, eager to lead, yet the whole remained intact.  Then, with impressive groupthink, the cluster of birds descended onto a new tree, disappearing into its depths with the quiet rustling of leaves. 
     The fertile milieu swelled uncontrollably, engulfing the river as it flowed farther into the open, pulled forward as though hypnotized.  A gentile shushing filled the air and grew louder as the world became larger.  The river stopped staring.  It lay back, floating along in comfortable absentmindedness, relaxed by the verdant serenity, resting happily in its bed and looking up into the fading gold of early evening.  Then, suddenly, it wasn’t.  The sky fell down and the world spun around in a tumbling orgy of rock and tree, animal and cloud.  The shushing increased and the water smashed into the mountain’s side, tore off chunks of dirt and rock, and threw them down into the chaos below.   Valley green and blazing orange and dirty brown and foamy white images slid over one another in rapid succession, melting together and replacing each other like a psychedelic kaleidoscope on fast forward.  The shushing became crashing and the river was stretched to its limits; it broke apart into sections, each falling on its accord, and raced itself to the bottom with violent celerity.  These oversized, speeding teardrops were swallowed up by a mist so dense the river could no longer tell if it was falling, floating, or flying.  Inside the viscous opaque of wet, gray molasses, directions were alien and meaningless; up and down, forwards and backwards, left and right, these were words without context.  The river hovered in uneasy paresis, unable to flow, going nowhere, discerning nothing in the foggy purgatory. Then: a brutal collision and spreading darkness, and the world turned black.
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