Echoes on the Moss-Covered Bridge

The drops of water on the moss-covered ground made every step treacherous. The bridge was ancient and narrow, hardly wide enough for someone like me. The wooden boards glistened under the sunlight, almost unreal, like a mirage that could swallow anything-and anyone-who dared approach. I felt as if it were consuming me as I walked, my legs heavy, moving like a river, while my body felt strangely light, as if detached from my own will.