I Know, I Know, This is Getting Old

You ever find yourself starting over and over and over again in the creative process, waiting for that perfect line, that perfect beginning, that perfect twist?

Yeah, I'm there.

In my case, it's the beginning and what comes immediately after. So I offer, again, a snippet of a beginning, something that sounds good and hopefully stays sounding good. Let me know what you think.


Ebram strained against the pull of the current, so strong he felt as if his arm itself might tear away. His eyes half-closed because of the struggle, he saw his son Emon disappear beneath the swirling water for the third time, only to come back up a few moments later. Holding to Ebram's hand as tightly as possible, Emon sputtered and tried to cry out, but water kept filling his mouth every time he opened it.
Ebram tried to tell his son to keep his mouth closed, to fight against the current, to try and swim closer to the shore...and yet no sound came from his mouth. It never did. No matter how hard he tried to scream, Ebram could make no noise. He kept trying, of course, because his son, his only son, was close to drowning. But with each passing moment, his silence grew louder and his grip slipped a little more.
Somehow, Ebram knew how this would end. He got the feeling he'd seen this struggle, this battle for life, before, many times before even. Somehow, he knew that soon, some few seconds from now, Emon would slip beneath the raging river again, except this time he would not surface. Maybe it would be water filling his lungs, or maybe he would get caught on some unseen snag beneath the surface, or maybe the undercurrent was strong, too strong. Ebram didn't know, had never known, would never know what it was that shut his son's eyes for the last time.
He felt, in his mind and heart more than physically, his son's hand slip from his own. With a last desperate look, Emon disappeared from his father's view, his eyes giving Ebram a look that would haunt him until time itself ended. Ebram sat there, on the rock that jutted out into the water, panting and sweating, waiting for tears to come.
But they didn't. For some reason, Ebram felt the tears had stopped coming a long time ago. But where did that feeling come from?
From somewhere behind him, a loud noise seemed to shake the ground itself. Ebram turned to look....