He followed the river because there was nothing else. It moved in patterns that mimicked breathing; it was as if it was alive. Music could be heard from it, piano notes in a projection of its voice, and it glowed white softly against the dark. Only trees and grass were visible for a few feet away from the river before blackness swallowed the rest of the invisible landscape up. There was nothing to do but to follow the river.
It called to him. He could see the faces and bodies of people he recognized just under the surface. They looked like they were sleeping. But he could not remember exactly where they had come from.
The river wanted him to come closer. He stopped to put one of his fingers in the water; an immense wave of happiness shot inside him from the contact and for a moment he had the intense desire to put his whole body under. But he knew that he would end up like the people inside the river already - unconscious, unaware of anything, unable to leave the water. There was nothing to do but to follow the river. He did not know what was at the end or if there even was an end. But he knew that was what he had to do.
Voices whispered from the river. In an effort to keep himself grounded in reality, he balled his hands into fists tighter and tighter until they were red. Was this the right choice? Would he find the right path? He wondered if his decisions were invisible mistakes enclosed in his fingers. The voices from the river became louder until they were almost screams. He started to run forward, following the river again, and the screams echoed behind him desperately.
After a while, the river calmed down and simply played calm music again. He felt more relaxed and slowed his pace until he was at a brisk walk alongside the bright water. Eventually, he noticed someone on the other side as if they had appeared from nowhere.