Posted in Flash Fiction

Two Bridges

As usual the great writing from Scribbla has hooked me in. He has written a great start to a story prompted by Sunday Picture Post writing challenge at Indigo Spider. Here is my humble response.

Two Bridges

I stand at the river’s edge, the golden sand trickling through my toes, the warm water washing over my bare feet. As I stare at the twinkling lights of the two bridges silhouetted against the night sky I am drawn back to that night, 10 years ago, when I first crossed to the other side.

From the safety of my father’s truck it had been one long adventure. I remember vividly how quickly the bright lights and tall buildings of our side had given way to the squalor and greyness on their side. As we approached the waste collection point grubby looking men and boys appeared out of low, crumbling buildings and immediately started unloading the waste. In the distance I could see rows of run down buildings with children playing outside in the mud.

It was hard to believe that a single bridge was all that separated me from my life of luxury to this. I shivered. It was then that I first noticed him, one of the young workers, only a couple of years older than me, standing amongst the waste and looking straight at me. His eyes were dark and piercing, it was as if they were searching my very soul. I wanted to look away but I couldn’t. Our eyes met and it was as if we were one, as though we had known each other for ever. I knew that one day we would meet again and that our lives and our futures were somehow inextricably linked.

As I look across the river I think about him yet again. What is his name? What has become of him? I shiver as if I can hear him calling me, I can almost see those dark piercing eyes searching me out across the dark water. Something inside me warns me that our paths are about to cross once again.

I now own that trucking company of my fathers and it has grown to be one of the most powerful organizations in the city. A city that is in crisis. We are rapidly outgrowing our limited space. So a decision has been made to start to develop the land on the other side of the two bridges. The inhabitants will be pushed further back inland, their land seized and their homes demolished, to make way for our new, luxury, concrete developments. They are a poor people with limited resources so any opposition will be minimal and quickly crushed.

The work starts tomorrow with the first group of contractors and armed support guards crossing the bridge at first light. I will be leading them.



11 thoughts on “Two Bridges

  1. Ominous. Darker then your usual writing but I liked it. This line in particular hit me in the gut: “They are a poor people with limited resources so any opposition will be minimal and quickly crushed.”


    1. Thanks for your comments.
      Also thanks for the great picture prompt which inspired Scribbla who in turn inspired me.
      Where would we be without one another?


  2. Ha – very good response. The feeling of an impending battle in the air, as well as love, is irresistable. Your last sentence sets us marvelously for a continuation. Fantastic work, as always.


    1. Thank you for your kind words.
      The quality of the response is down to the quality of the starting story, so many thanks to you for that.
      I wonder if anyone will take up the baton and continue this piece?


  3. The position you’ve placed her in makes for some really great tension. I can see it – the two drawn together, yet enemies, on opposite side of the battle. Which will win? Love or livelihood?


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