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Excerpt from "The Bridge"(A dark comedy) by R.Dale Johnson
It had stopped snowing but the night wind was bitterly cold.The tall man in the dark coat pulled his hat down tighter and stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets. At two in the morning there was little traffic on the bridge and no pedestrians at all.
He had spent all day in the city but found nothing. He had four dollars in his pocket and half a pack of cigarettes. He was walking home because of no money for the train. Home for two more weeks then out on the street if he didn’t find work.
He’d been in the city for twenty years now and could no longer remember why he’d come here. He did recall that things were okay for the first ten years until she left.
Half way across the bridge he stopped behind a girder to break the wind and light a smoke.The Zippo lived up to it’s reputation and flared to life.He took a long drag and started on but an unusual sound made him stop. He listened carefully and heard it again. A moan or sob. He walked to the side of the bridge and looked over. A young, dark haired girl sat on the outside of the bridge railing.
“What’re you doing there”. He said.
She didn’t answer, but sat silently clutching the cold steel with tiny, white fingers.
“Hey girl” he said louder. “You’d better get off there. You’re likely to fall”.
She still didn’t answer.
“Do you want me to help you?” The man said extending his hand toward her.
“No!’ go away and leave me be. I don’t need any help.” And don’t try to stop me”. she added.
“Are you planning to jump?” he asked softly.
“Yes.” was her only reply.
“ You look awfully young to be taking the big plunge. Would you mind telling me why?”
She didn’t answer but he could hear her sobbing quietly.
He flipped the glowing butt of his cigarette past her and watched its light curve down into the darkness. Its glow disappeared long before the cold water extinguished its spark.
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