She looked over the edge,
down towards the water. The
bridge was the gray of steel
and concrete. She saw her
breath through the October
air, shallow yet long and
steady. Her face held no
expression, numb. And she
fixated her eyes on the dark
center of the river below.
The coasts were always so
pretty, tidied up with a thin,
blue line. But right down
the middle lay the deepest
part. And it was darker than
the shoes in her hands. And
it all moved forward, moving
on down the line, ever
changing, as nothing changes.
As if nothing mattered. She
took a deep breath.


-
Aleksander Mielnikow