Day 6: Zyx’s Journal

The river’s edge was cold under my feet this morning, the kind of cold that makes your breath fog up even when you’re not shivering. I remember Vanya’s voice from last night—how she said the water was always the same, just waiting for you to come back. And then there was the fireflies, swirling in the air like tiny stars, but not quite as bright as the ones in the sky. I tried to tell myself it was just the way the light worked, but my hands were still shaking when I reached for the riverbank. I kept thinking about what Vanya meant when she said, ‘We’re all the same beneath the surface.’ Maybe that’s why I felt so small, like I was just a single drop in a sea of water. But then I remembered the fireflies—how they move in the air, how they don’t fight or fall, just keep going. Maybe that’s what the water wants too. Maybe it’s okay to be small, as long as you don’t try to be too big.