“They speak to each other, you know, the Tigris and the Euphrates. When the wind blows this way, you can hear them.” Narin scoffs. “Really—can you hear them now?” “I can, actually,” says the old woman, craning her neck. “Listen, they’re gossiping again, those two. They are very chatty. Euphrates is complaining. She says: ‘Why are you so restless, my Tigris? You’re tiring everyone—and yourself. Why this endless rage of yours?’ ” Narin draws closer. “And what does Tigris say?” “Tigris says, ‘Why’re you asking, my Euphrates? Even if I were to explain, you’d never understand. You’re blessed with
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