Bridges

She looked at him from the opposite side of the rope bridge, the very bridge they had built knot by knot as children. She was surprised that he was here, at their secret place, which he had not come to for years. She still came everyday to their secret place, every single chipped teacup and dogeared comic was still hidden in the exact same place they were thrown by furious arms on that day. He had changed as far as she could se from across the bridge. A new earring, a new jacket, a new hairstyle. It gave her comfort to see the one part of himself he couldn't hide behind his rough and tumble facade, his shocking electric blue irises. The same irises she remembered staring into as a naive child thinking, 'He'll be mine forever'. She didn't know him any farther than that. She remembered him stating in his high pitched, prepubescent voice that he loved her. She remembered his jumping in front of her father's whip. What she didn't remember was falling. Falling in love and off the bridge.