The Bridge by JackBrown (storytelling rock&roll)

Adapted from a story by https://soundcloud.com/mark-klenk
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(El Puente)

I stepped up to the edge and looked down. There was no floor in sight. Just down.

I had to cross. And the only way over this chasm was an ancient walkway suspended with twine - the Bridge.

I held my breath and took my first step over the edge. Slowly placing my full weight on the wooden plank beneath my feet.

It held.

I took a second tentative step. Then a third. Testing each piece. Dizzy with fear. Fighting to keep my eyes fixed on the other side.

I was halfway across when it happened. I heard a crack of wood. My stomach plunged as my feet fell out from under me. Everything seemed to move outside of time.

The rope tore into my clenched fist. I was hanging, spinning above the emptiness.

I clawed and I fought my way back up to the Bridge.

Heart and head pounding. I had to keep going. I continued on concentrating only on the wood beneath my feet.

Finally I forced my eyes up. Only three more steps to go. Two. Now one. I collapsed to the solid ground beneath me. Safe. It had taken a lifetime to conquer but it was over.

I got up. Staggered away from the Bridge in numb celebration. And then it hit me. Sucking the air from my lungs.

I realized that I got turned around out there. And now here I am, back where I started, still needing to go to the other side.
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Image by http://MarkKlenk.com