It was a gloomy morning. Everyone wore a sullen face, not bothering to greet a 'good morning' to anyone— there was nothing good about the morning anyway; we were finally going to cross the enchanted river!
We woke unusually early today; the chill of the river couldn't let us sleep in peace. It was so cold that vapor emitted from our mouth each time we seldom spoke a word. As the most experienced one amongst us, Margaret took the cue to address us on the dangers that lay ahead a few yards into the river— the sirens. She walked gingerly as if trying to shake off the cold. She motioned us to come closer to her.
"I'd start by letting you know that, honestly not all of us will make it pass this river" she began after clearing her throat. 'A very odd way to begin a speech', I felt after liste
