I stand over the bridge and watch cars go underneath, underneath, underneath…I like watching them: I like the highway.
The highway feels like home.
I linger to soak in the reminder that I am but a small piece. I take a breath and keep walking, listening to the cars below me as they still run with their high pitch sound.
I see a girl running towards me and I wonder if she minds that I stay by the side of the bridge rather than move by the road. She does not move over and I wonder if I should.
She stops.
One earphone is in her ear.
“Hey are you okay?” her long blond hair is pulled back in a high ponytail and I recognize her poignant features and Florida blue eyes. We met the other night. She lived under me and had told me that we had some of the bigger classes together. She remembered me because I had asked many questions in those classes and that had helped.
I smile. “Yeah.” I’m not sure what makes her ask.
“Okay,” She hits my arm lightly as she turns to go. “I don’t like people standing on bridges.”
And then she is gone. Fast steps take her back to campus.
My mind follows, even as my feet continue to carry me forward. It’s quite possible that, in another situation, on another day, she would have saved a life.
