It started with that faint wisp of moisture, usually so subtle as to be mistaken for a breath, possibly a light breeze against the cheek, but everyone feeling it knows, it’s the rain.
Standing on the bridge I watched the water run its course, swishing and angry moving from one side of the bridge toward the continual swirl on the other.
The wind picked up and I shivered, wrapping my arms around my chest to warm up against the coming storm. Grey colors swirled above as the water rushed below. I stared off at the leaves and branches, they swayed in unison, mocking the weather, laughing at me. Why was I here?
“We have to talk.” I told him on the phone earlier. He was bothered by something, it was almost as if he knew already. “Meet me at our bridge” I stated, though, my voice lacked the confidence of my tone. The single tear escaped me then, but I held true through the conversation. “I’ll be a little late, I have to stop at work for a thing” he responds, his voice trails off earlier than it should have. “I’ll be there” he says finally.
“I’m here” I think, as I feel another dusting of moisture. Looking at my feet ( why am I barefoot? ) I ask myself. I see some moisture beading on the deck. Lacking the will to give up, I decide to stay.
He did have to stop by work that day, there was a meeting, though that wasn’t the reason he was there. Too many missed deadlines, too many mistakes. Today he was simply picking up his ‘stuff.’ Though, initially he had planned on continuing on. There wasn’t much reason to stay.
“Meet at the bridge” she said, why did she sound so sad? The breakup had been mutual, both had felt the relationship wasn’t enough to keep them together.
The weather picked up around him as he left his office, rain began dancing and mincing across the road.
She stood while the water fell from the angry sky, it first flattened her hair, working it’s way through her dress and eventually into her skin, soaking her to the point she slid slowly down the railing and sat on the decking. Her foot barely able to hold her knees while looking for something to grip.
He didn’t realize how little traction he had after accelerating onto the highway. Though, he should have. No one would have believed the story that he lost control in the rain. Though, his mind was racing, faster then his response time to the weather surrounding his mind.
Three weeks ago, the week before they broke it off. They fought about direction, was the relationship swirling out of control? Where were they going she asked?
His eyes widened when he realized both the reason for the meeting and that the rear wheels were not going to hold on to the corner, the river in the road took his life for a final ride.
Waiting for her man on the bridge, the rains poured. The wind whipped around her, She cried realizing he wasn’t coming.
I’m pregnant she said to herself, and looked up toward the sky as the rain continued to pour.