Bridge Crossing

Ghosts can not cross bridges. I never understood why, despite the fact that I am a ghost. I had never tried before, though. Staring at the beauty of the city across the river, I tell myself it is just a bridge away. I am only a bridge away from happiness, and all I have to do is cross it. Besides, the ghosts who believe it must be afraid of water or heights or something. Me? I have never been afraid of anything, especially now that I am dead. After all, you can't die twice, can you?

I brace myself as I walk up to the snow- covered bridge, chuckling at the fact that I leave no footprints. Just a bridge away, I repeat.

I take a step- I'm fine. Another, and I'm still okay. Just one more is all it takes for me to be satisfied, and I take it just fine. I am still on the bridge, crossing it just fine. I stick my tongue out at the empty air as if it were towards the fearsome ones of us that would never try such a thing.

I break into a sprint, excited to get across. I don't even make it halfway across.