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Over the bridge

by Practicer 

Posted: 23 October 2020
Word Count: 501
Summary: For the writing of something scary challenge.

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I had that thank God it´s Friday feeling, and i didn´t have much on. Tomorrow the travelling fete would be in my town. Traditionally the fete would set up on the flood plains because it was okay in the sunshine as it never rained.  This was great as it was on my side of the town and my side of the river. However, this year, due to uncommonly  high waters, the fete was taking place on the other side of the river, over the bridge. I lived in  a rather big town, I would have to take a boat to get there, as I had a terrible fear of heights. Feeling kind of seasick at the best of times, i was feeling nervous. However, psychologists always say  visualise everything because the mind cannot distinguish between imagination and reality. I decided to take a leisurely stroll through the fetes usual location, taking an attitude of mindfulness. I concentrated on slow  deep breaths and tried to observe the nature ways, allotments, trees, listening to the birds  singing. Unfortunately, heading this way was not the wisest decision as the fields were so muddy, I soon had to find concrete pathways.
The weren´t called the flood plains for nothing and it soon began to rain quite heavily. The water was coming in over for my shoes and gradually overlapping on to the road. I only had one way to escape and that was over the dreaded high  bridge. However, the bridge seemed extremely low from its ascend, but as i had never before crossed it by foot, I could only visualise what it would look like.  Once upon its pinnacle, I strode up , trying to observe every one of its cobblestones, but it made the cracks even more visible.  I dare not look down through the railing gaps as i knew i would panic and loose my balance. The heavy rush of flood waters was approaching so fast, carts and cattle had the same route out of there. The bridge was becoming narrower and narrower. I could not turn back as the the rising waters were blocking my way.   Other travellers soon evacuated their carriages , some screaming and  shouting . The bridge began to crumble and the railings shuddered dangerously, concaving. People were beginning to jump off the bridge. The carriages began rolling out of control, making all the horses bolt. I felt my breath shortening and a part of me wanted to freeze.  I began to scream and shut my eyes tightly.
"Go to the next significant event and then tell me what happens?" said Dr baker, the past life  therapist, in a calm voice.
" I can see myself floating like i am in water, but the rain has stopped, the sun is shining , but It´s as bright as a supernova."
I knew that I would have to return and cross that bridge over and over again until i had conquered my fear. It seemed to be my karma.

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Comments by other Members

michwo at 18:40 on 23 October 2020  Report this post
Quite a vivid description here of a personal trauma, Robert. I don't like walking through mud myself I have to say and, though I'm more or less OK with railway bridges, looking down from bridges that go over motorways can be pretty hair-raising sometimes. Any bridge that collapses is going to be very frightening indeed and you do convey that here. Well done. I think it might be better though if you talk about a travelling fair rather than a travelling fete. I associate the word 'fete' myself with words like 'summer', 'garden', 'church' rather than 'travelling'. One or two small i's here for capital I and you would panic and lose your balance rather than loose your balance.

Practicer at 09:36 on 24 October 2020  Report this post
Thank you very much for your feedback.

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