As I walk my feet tip tap on dark cobble stones
mist catches on my hair and clothes, making me damp and cold
Dim light from dingy street lamps illuminated the solum street
The bridge I come to is rugged and creaky
As I step forward on to the dark wood it feels as though I might fall
Into the crystal clear water
The mist clears and I see the reflection of my face
But it's not my face
Nothing. I'm not quite there
I cry
