Written for Fandango’s Story Starter #237.
The image I used is courtesy of Brian Dodd at
Bushboys World. Please check out his amazing
site. Here’s my story with Fan’s prompt line.

The Clarence River moved slow and brown in the afternoon heat, indifferent to everything.
Harper hadn’t been back to Grafton in eleven years …. not since her uncle’s funeral, not since the argument, not since she’d torn up his letter without reading it. When the solicitor rang last week, his voice careful and measured, she’d almost hung up.
Go to the river park. The old gazebo. You’ll know which bench.
She did know. She and her uncle sat there together many times when she was a young girl, eating meat pies and watching pelicans drift past. He’d told her that rivers remember everyone who stands beside them. She’d thought him eccentric then; now she understood he was truly on to something.
The green paint was newer, but the bones of the bench were the same. She crouched, gravel pressing into her knees, river smell thick in her nostrils.
She ran her hand beneath the park bench and sure enough, just as he said, she felt the envelope secured there by tape.
Her name in his handwriting. Nothing else.
She sat at the table where they’d shared those pies, the river sliding past, and finally …. a decade too late …. she read what he’d written.
And her heart split in two.
NAR©2026
#FSS
This is “Mighty Clarence River” by Archie Roach
Everything on The Elephant’s Trunk was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.

This is so good, Nancy! 👏🏻 “rivers remember everyone who stands beside them” Chill bumps. ✨
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Thanks so very much, Michele. This was one of those stories that felt almost charmed in the sense that it flowed so easily, and came to me all at once in its entirety. I love when that happens. I appreciate your gracious comments; they are very important to me. 😌
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You’re very welcome and thank you for your beautiful reply. Means a lot to me, too. 🦋
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So sad. But very well told.
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Rifts like this rarely end well. Thanks, Jodi.
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A decade too late, Nancy, … but transported back to the time of regret through the foresight of her Uncle, and now I’m wondering about the content written within the letter, … hmmm, … you’re a marvel at the ‘leave ‘em guessing, …’ …💙
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Penn, I take that as a great compliment! Thank you for reading my story and taking the time to write these beautiful comments. I appreciate them greatly. ♥️
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You bring an uplift to my day, my friend, …your writing especially, and your lovely comments too, …💙🤗
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Yes
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Thanks for your word of affirmation, Ron. Much appreciated.
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Lovely! Time does work its magic.
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That is very true. Thank you, my dear friend.
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A very emotionally story, so eloquently narrated, Nancy … a great and very nostalgic song choice … I went to see Archie perform in Geelong, not long before died … (oh, the video didn’t work, but I found it on my YouTube)
https://youtu.be/U97URMn2BUw
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Your beautiful comments have touched my heart, my dear friend. This was one of those stories that almost wrote itself; I’m sure you know that feeling. It was a total pleasure for me. Archie simply had to be included. Thank you, dear Ivor. 🥰 🌏🎶
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Archie’s performance, despite his own obvious difficulties, was still at his storytelling best and of course, one could not help but shed a few tears during his heartfelt show … he was simply amazing 😊😲🎶🌏
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So moving Nance I love it and your song choice 💕💕💕
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Combining Fandango’s prompt line with Brian’s photo worked really well, I think. The song just found its way here. Thanks for your lovely comments, Ange. ♥️
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🙌
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A very moving story.
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Thank you, Sadje. It was a pleasure writing the story.
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🩷🩷🩷
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Opportunities lost, but never forgotten. Thanks for joining in, Nancy.
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It was an intriguing line that worked so well with Brian’s photo. Thanks very much, Fan.
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Well that was emotional. Good use of the prompt!!
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Very lovely comment. Thanks so much, Sanjeet.
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beautiful 🙂 Nance! ❤ ❤
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Thanks so much, CA. I’m so glad you liked this one. ♥️
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