The City Beneath the Falls

At noon, the boatmen of Liora tie their vessels beneath the falling rivers and wait for the city to finish speaking. Each waterfall carries down a different sound: wedding songs from the upper terraces, arguments from open windows, a child practicing the same violin scale. The boatmen collect these echoes in blue glass jars and sell them back at sunset. Some passengers buy laughter. Some buy apologies. The oldest jars are never opened. They are labelled simply: Things the Water Could Not Forget.