For some it might have seemed like a lovely day at the river side. The sun was shining bright and birds were diving through the sky. You could hear them chirping their happy songs. A light breeze brought the unobtrusive smell of flowers and made sure that it wasn't too warm for the lonely wanderer, approaching the river bank.
He walked slow, but with a steady pace. Unaffected by the surroundings, he didn't seem to fit into with his own appearance. His eyes were caught by the river surface. Slightly wavy, but peacefully flowing forward in its own speed.
"The serpentine river...", he mumbled in a soundless voice to himself.
To whom else he should have talked? No one was here. He was alone. Alone like he was never before. Not even all those years ago.
A shoal was swimming against the stream. He could see their scaling shimmer in the water. A havy wind blew blossoms of the near cherry tree past him and into the river. One curious fish inspected it at close range, but soon he turned around and followed his own way. Next a shiny blue dragonfly caught his attention. It flew past some colorful butterflies. He haven't seen those for years and it gave him a strange feeling. It was back then in his youth. In his earlier childhood.
He kneeled at the water's edge, holding his hand into the stream. The water was still cold, but that didn't matter. He didn't plan to dive into it.
Out of his pocket he retrieved a carved, wooden object, which looked like some kind of leaf with a deepening in the middle. He inserted some exotic smelling herbs in the cavity. He took one of his cards into his hand. That was the first moment he stopped in his movement. It wasn't a normal playing card. One half showed the jack of spades and the other half the jack of hearts.
For the blink of an eye the expression of sadness flashed over his face.
He had to continue. With a flip he set the card aflame and placed it in the boat. Smoke was rising. He closed his eyes for a moment. And then he let go.
He did watch the boat flowing away, peacefully dandling in the waves.
Then he let his hands sink into the water again and splashed it into his face. It was icy-cold, but it felt good.
He didn't look back when he left. There was nothing to look back at. He had washed away his former life and buried it in the manner as the river folk always had. Tobias Foxtrot has returned to the river, got part of it again.
Tobias Foxtrot had died in this place today. He hadn't been strong enough to keep going. He couldn't keep going without him.
The man who left the river was someone else. Twisted Fate was born this day. And he walked until he could see the stars shining through the brunches of a fir forest.
He felt different. Empty in some way, but free in another. Free like the birds he watched earlier. Light, like he couldn't be bothered by anything anymore. Not caring about nothing anymore ever again.
It's a new dawn,
It's a new day,
It's a new life
For me.