“What the…?!” his mouth hung open for a moment. “This wasn’t here last week.”
“What wasn’t?” replied his rather bemused young friend.
“The river!” he exclaimed, waving his hands and arms around to indicate the flowing torrent of water which now occupied the space before them but which had not, to the best of his recollections, inhabited that same space just a few days prior to this.
“Oh, yes…the river…” mused his friend. “Where did that come from?”
“Where did…? How should I know where it came from? It’s just…just…here…in our way…” he ranted.
“Well, that’s one way of looking at it,” his friend’s brow furrowed as he considered the new river.
“What other way is there?” he fumed. “It’s in our way, we can’t get across, there’s a torrent of fast flowing water and jagged rocks…and I really liked it over there! There were berries and deer and that nice patch of grass that was great to sit on when the sun was out…”
“Well, yes,” he friend began, “I’ll miss all of that, but, hey, we have a river now! We can fish, and people might sail down it and come visit us, and it’ll be lovely to come down here on a sunny day and just watch the fish jumping and maybe have a bit of a paddle.”
“It’s almost like…” he paused for a moment, and thought a little, “it’s almost like we’re both looking at the same thing and seeing it in two completely different ways.”