A Bridge

Mother Earth is a big mass of rock, but she’s full of life. She is curvy, her bust is full and round. She’s full of emotion and mood, features of life. She gives us resources, and numerous reasons to think and invent. She is harsh and kind, she’s willing and dismissive. She’s everything she needs to be. Mother earth has shaped lives, she has created warriors and has swallowed slaves. She has seen it all, she has had it all, and she’s there to stay, with more for her hungry soul.

A young lady gets up off the ground where she’d curled up to the scorching heat of the morning sun. She runs the back of her hands over her brow to wipe off a hundred beads of sweat that have already formed. You’d think her face is part of the earth, with dew having formed overnight. That’s how her face looks like, cracked and brown, covered in sifted dust, and dry, except for the sweat adhesively attached to it.

It’s early morning, but it is sweltering. She has been through life in a flash, she can’t remember her past. She is a stranger of the present, with the wisdom of a lifetime. She can explain the burning from the heat, but she can’t explain her new-found knowledge. In her sense of wonder, she sweeps her gaze across the barren land; dried leaves being blown by a warm breeze, dust clouds rising in patches, the far hissing of a snake, and the faintest sound of music. Yeah, music.

She gets to her feet and seeks the beat of her soul, the itch in her mind. She’s not concerned about the rumble in her stomach, or the crack in her lips. She’s used to that. She’s used to the confusion, the lack of excitement, the long walks, and the near misses. She’s heard something new today, something that in her sixteen years has been missing. Rhythm.

She has experienced the sway of dead trees in the wind, the crackling and snapping of leaves and twigs under her bare feet. She has rubbed her hands together to keep herself warm. She has walked, one foot beyond another, but these have never felt like rhythm. Rather, rhythm has never been intriguing. It has never itched her soul, never made her curious. It was all innate, meant to be.

In her slow pursuit, she comes across a gorge. She looks down. After a few hundred meters down, it’s all dark. She looks up and on the other side she is mesmerized by what she sees. Her entire life has been with herself. She’s not aware of her origin, she’s only aware of herself, her surroundings, and that she can speak. She can speak, but she’s never spoken to anyone for as long as she can remember. She’s always been alone.

On the other side, there is life. There are people, shapes moving. There are cars and buildings, tall and cozy. There are lights and trees. She cannot believe that there’s been living without her. She cannot understand why she was all alone on this side, and there were many more like her living on the other side without her. The music is nearer now, but she can’t get her mind to take her to the other side. She’s amazed, a tear rolls down her cheek, leaving a clean line showing her true skin parted from her dusty make-up.

Between her and civilization lies the depth of the gorge, two cliffs holding what is from what isn’t. As she stands there, she notices a connection. The route to her interaction with the other world. Literally. A wooden suspension bridge. Swaying in the warm breeze in front of her to the left was a creaking suspension bridge, urging her to explore. She was apprehensive of her fear, conditioned by her loneliness.

She moves over to it and tries her foot onto the horizontal wooden blocks. The bridge creaks and sways as her hand and foot land on the railing and deck respectively. She instinctively moved forward, she always had. She’d never worried about whether she was moving forward or moving on. She just moved. When she got to the middle, she saw a barrier on the other side, a child looking through the slits. The mother called to him as she came to pick him up, warning him to stay clear lest he falls into the gorge.

She was surprised just as her son was. The barrier had been erected for 12 years now after people stopped coming through. When the last of man and womankind had fled the other side. When civilization had been destroyed. When the other side had been built, the free side. Joy, the girl on the bridge, increased her steps as excitement built in her. The sight of two other persons waving and shouting at her was all she needed. A crowd was forming and their banging on the barrier grew louder as she came closer.

The walk seemed to take forever, the journey had been long. She heard a rumbling sound behind her as she neared the now strewn barrier. As she looked behind her, she saw the bridge, wasting away into the dark below. A thick mist had engulfed the cliff on the other side, moving towards her with the collapsing bridge. A hand reached out to her as she jumped the last two meters. The last two meters to freedom. She landed on soft grass, her inexplicable joy driving her to unconsciousness. She had made it, alone.

The music from a drive-through had brought her to freedom, the place she’d not known existed. In her lowest, she’d freed herself from her past. She’d left the place of the unknown and jumped into her future. She’d dived in, literally. The only moment from her past that she still recalls, is the moment on the bridge. When all that stood between her and now, was a bridge and a meaningful leap.