Chris R-0077-2 Image by Christine Renney

I still intend to keep walking but the road now is a distraction. It has become too much, the noise and the lights at night.
There is a bridge up ahead and I wonder about all the others just like it that I must have passed. But I haven’t noticed and I haven’t looked until now and I am walking towards this bridge rather than alongside the road.
It looks fragile, like something I might have built as a boy with Lego or Meccano or perhaps even both. Forcing the pieces together and making them fit.
It is thin and narrow, a walkway linking the footpath on either side of the carriageway. And from where I am standing I can see this path snaking away from the bridge on the other side.
Moving closer I gaze up at the underside. The paint is peeling on the girders. Each time a car thunders past the whole thing shakes a little and flakes fall. Stepping back I watch this confetti of rusty scabs.
The bank here is concrete and steep and if I am going to get up there I will need to double back. And turning myself around I feel giddy and disorientated.


6 thoughts on “GHOST LETTER 27

  1. chrisnelson61 August 20, 2016 / 2:54 pm

    A nice chunky metaphor here, Mark, which ties in well with this series. The sense of an endless search continues and I do like your careful and subtle observations.

    • markrenney2 August 22, 2016 / 2:53 pm

      Thank you Chris.

  2. Jana H. White August 20, 2016 / 8:50 pm

    Your descriptions are often so visceral Mark. It gets right down under my skin. I am right there…under the bridge.

    • markrenney2 August 22, 2016 / 2:53 pm

      Thank you Jana.

  3. sheldonk2014 August 21, 2016 / 12:09 am

    Yes to all of the above
    And more please

    • markrenney2 August 22, 2016 / 2:54 pm

      Thanks Sheldon.

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