There’s a stone bridge across the tree-lined river, so pretty in itself and in its setting that it appears on a thousand photographs, especially in the autumn when the trees turn yellow and orange.
Be careful when you cross it on New Year's Day. Stop on the path before you set foot on it. Listen, really hard. Can you hear a sound? It’s a little like an electrical hum. Can you hear it? If you can, turn around, walk back up into the city, and choose another bridge to take you to the other side of the river, no matter how long that adds to the journey.
If you hear the hum and still cross it, when you turn and look back there will be nothing but a thick fog, thicker than you have ever seen, making it seem as if there is no end to the bridge. Turn back the way you are heading, and you will see nothing but a thick fog, thicker than you have ever seen, making it seem as if there is no end to the bridge.
There are no ends anymore. No world on either side. Just the bridge. And you are going to be on it for a very, very long time.
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