Gracie rushed after the single gondola as a shadow of a man hefted the long rowing oar from the river of time. It arced over the gondola, water drops shimmering against the background oranges of fall.
“Please, sir, I need to go back. I have to change everything!” Her old lungs ached, but she couldn’t stop now. Not after finally finding the river of time.
The gondolier shook his head and shoved off from the bank. “We give rides to no one.”
Her throat tightened as the gondola floated away. “No—I must go back. My children—”
The gondolier frowned at her, though there was no mouth. Her soul just knew.
“Please do not attempt to board. It never ends well.”
Gracie gasped, “I will go back. They said I hurt them, now they want nothing to do with me. I just want to meet my grandbabies. I—“
She leapt from the bank, arms flailing, desperate to reach the gondola. To convince the shadow that her cause was worthy. That she deserved to go back and change how she treated her children.
The river was warm she crashed into its surprising depths. She tried to swim, to propel herself upward, but the liquid of time moved like mud—a sparkly mud.
She felt the shadow watching her as she struggled, somehow hearing his laughter in her mind.
“No one can turn back time, little human. Now you will join it like all who have tried. Your judgment came early.”
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