The Bridge | A Short Story
Amber S weat matted my skin, making it feel hot and sticky. I picked up my pace as the old train bridge came into view. Mom said you could see it well from the road, but the embankment didn't seem that steep. I descended the slope that led into an over flown creek, small rocks and twigs biting into my bare feet. The murky water traveled under the bridge, and the tunnel's large arch seemed to drink it in. I stood on the shoreline, taking in the enchanting sight. The large stones that built the structure up held an age old look, hinting that they may give way at any moment. Even so, I continued to the bridge, wading in the ankle deep muddy water. My feet sunk into the algae that carpeted the bottom of the creek. I tried not to think of the things that likely swam past my toes. The bridge swallowed me with its shadow as I waded through the water, my splashing echoing against it's curved ceiling. The reflection of the water ripples danced ac