Noah's fence

Noah. That's the name of the 10 year old kid, standing in front of the high voltage fence that had divided his town. He has no clue who had erected those fences. Mr. B who lives next door calls it Noah's fence. Obviously he is referring to how Noah had helped the builders in bringing them water and helping them pass small tools when they were putting up that fence.

Some nights when he was able to smell the mud stuck to his fingernails, he helplessly remembers the river. The river, near where he grew up before the story of fence. Sitting on the concrete steps after bathing feeling the water drops running down the body, dripping at the end of fingers, eye lashes, tip of the nose, chin and hair. It was always a good thing to sit like that and letting the sun to absorb some of the water. A soft wind. A mild tremble of body. Noah would get up and walk to the fence during those nights. No sound of the river. No trace of anything that can bring you the memory of a river. He would just stand there staring at the nothingness that extends endlessly beyond those fences. "Mother, how far are we from the river?" There was no answer.

"I could've learned to swim if i had stayed near the river." As he bit his nails he could smell and taste the dark earth, he secretly likes it, though it can get his mother so angry. Noah wrapped his hands tightly around his body at the thought of little Karim who died after gleefully running into the fence. He could not reach the river either.

A couple of days ago he had seen a group of egrets flying over the shacks they lived in now. It's very likely that the river should be near by. Noah was so happy that day and ran to Sophia, the small girl living in the area of the new extension of shacks.