Chapter 48 bridge

I am stiff and cold, I am a bridge over an abyss.My toes stuck in the dirt on one end, and my hands on the other, biting down on the crumbling clay.The hem of my top fluttered to my sides.There was a tumult from the cold Forelen in the abyss.No traveler has ever strayed up this difficult hill, and the bridge has not yet been marked on any map. —I just lay there, waiting, all I could do was wait.Once a bridge is built, it remains a bridge as long as it doesn't collapse. It was in the evening—whether it was the first or the thousandth evening, I don't know—and my thoughts were always in a mess and going in circles.In the evening of summer, when the sound of the running water in the creek deepened, I heard a man's footsteps!Come to me, come to me. —stretch your limbs, bridge, stand up; beam without handrails, stand in the way of him that entrusts you.Quietly dispel his worries about his footsteps, but he is still hesitating, so let him get to know you, and throw him to the shore like a mountain god.

He came, struck me with the iron point of his stick, and with it lifted the skirt of my coat and put it on me.He poked the point into my thick hair and left it there for a long time, as if to let it look around wildly.I was dreaming of following him over mountains and valleys, when he jumped on both feet and landed in the middle of my body.Unprepared, I shuddered from the excruciating pain.who is thisis a child?is it a dream?A highwayman?Is a short-sighted?A seducer?A Destroyer?I turned to look at him. —It is the bridge that is turning!Before I could turn around, I collapsed.I'm collapsing, I'm cracked, pierced by the sharp pebbles that had been gazing at me quietly in the rushing water.