One Step Beyond

     The water under the bridge is dark. The kind of dark that seems to sweep away whatever has the misfortune of falling into its grasp. The kind of dark that scares people away with its intensity, with its mystery. The kind of dark that can only be described as haunted. Some people would say it is, creating tales in their minds that spiral from the doorsteps of their neighbors to the ghost stories told around the bonfires at night. They could come down to the river and find out for themselves what lurks in the shadows of the bridge, but they don’t, because under their bold stances and fevered stories they don’t want to know what is under the bridge, instead remaining in the world of fantasy they created, the place where they controlled the endings. Those who don’t dabble in the world of uncertainty went and found out for themselves. They sit now atop their throne of knowledge, unwilling to share, but more than willing to judge.             I always liked the bridge, more beca