The Bridge V

         Snowflakes.

Each one, a little different from the last. Each with it's own unique design, and pattern. This man had seen them all, and he could almost classify each one as well. but his brain needed no lab, and his soul needed no home. The streets were both to him and he walked them alone.

The first he was witness to snow, he took shelter in the park, by a tree. This was many years ago, and by now, the tree was gone and the park had shrunken as well. Yet every year, he went to visit the same spot, only this year, he felt something different. He came in from the opposite side and off in the distance saw, a redwood bridge.

"Strange..." he came closer and closer, till the edge of the crimson licked at his feet much like a flame, flickering in the darkness. He felt a warmth that displaced him in time, putting him back in the day, when he slept underneath his tree.

He took one cautious step on to the bridge and his boots, so worn and old almost made no sound as he walked across the bright bridge. It was simple. No decorations, no fancy woodwork, yet the elegance amazed him.

         "Hello."

He turned around, whipping out a switchblade. The girl didn't flinch, even with the blade nearly jammed in her throat, and all she uttered was "Do you know this bridge?"

He nodded silently and retracted his blade. "I used to sleep under it. The tree it was made of I mean...Every year." He smiled, and grabbed his coat and offered it to the girl. She silently accepted and held it for a moment before donning it.

         "You're warm."
         "Why thank you. Never needed a fire, unlike the others."
         "...Are you afraid?"
         "...I'm sorry, what?"
She moved closer and repeated,
         "Are you afraid?"

Her height was not in any way intimidating, nor did her emotionless manner. It was the fact that she knew how he felt was what killed him on the inside.


         "I think I'd better go."

He turned to leave, but she stepped in his way. The edges of the rail on the bridge were covered in smoldering embers, smoking silently. He confronted her angrily, "What is this?" he yelled into the cold winter air. His coat lay on the floor and the other side of the bridge was going up in smoke.

That was when the panic set in. He looked around frantically, before leaping over the edge and landed in the water. The moment he was able to, he got to his feet and ran from the smoke. He couldn't make it far however, and he tripped on a rock and fell over. The shallow brook had a lot of slippery rocks so he picked up a smooth one and began to look for the girl.

He blinked and in an instant, he was trapped. Trapped by the fear inside him, and trapped by the burning bridge. He dropped to his knees and the stone fell from his hand, splashing by his side and triggering a chain of subdued memories.

The loss of his family, the loss of his home, his drug problem, the loss of all his personal ties, his whole miserable life flashed before his eyes as he slowly looked up. Death was one thing in life he was certain of, but he did not want to die in an uncertain place. Yet he still kept his gaze up and for a moment, he was not underneath the burning remains of a redwood bridge.

He was under his tree.

The bridge was about to collapse and he closed his eyes, but the sound of small feet pattering towards him brought him to look straight at the girl.


                                                                     "I lied...Its not the same tree. Have fun now," and with that, the bridge collapsed into a glowing pile of rubble. A mere scarlet blood drop on the pristine white landscape.




The next day, people merely ignored the trail of ash floating downstream, dismissing it as remains of a homeless person's fire. They crossed the bridge back and forth as the snow fell around them and covered their tracks, and by the end of the day, all was gone, the beautiful snow had brought peace back.