This is America in my dream:

In a world divided by a single river, two versions of the same soul existed. On one side of the river, a man struggled in his small boat, pushing against the relentless current. His face was a mask of weariness, each stroke of his oar taking him a little further downstream despite his efforts to go upstream. The water, dark and turbulent, seemed to mock his resolve, reflecting the stormy skies above. His journey was a battle against the inevitable, a dream once bright now turned into a nightmare of sinking, drowning.

But across the river, in a parallel reality, that same man was different. Here, he was a force of nature, his boat slicing through the water as if it were part of him. The river, though powerful, was no longer an adversary. He moved with purpose, each stroke bringing him closer to the distant mountains where the sun was setting in brilliant hues of gold and crimson. His dream was no longer to escape the current but to master it, to turn its roar into a song of triumph.

As the sun dipped below the mountains, the two versions of the man glimpsed each other across the divide. In that moment, the man struggling downstream saw a reflection of what could be—a dream to live for. And the man forging upstream understood the cost of giving up.

With a final, powerful stroke, the two men merged into one, no longer split by the river but united in purpose. The current no longer roared in defiance; it sang of the journey ahead, a journey worth every ounce of effort. And as the first stars appeared in the twilight sky, the man—whole and unwavering—rowed toward his destiny.

Written & illustrated by renqiulan