Sunday, June 29, 2014

A Bridge Behind

"He screamed, but the sound was lost in the clamor. The basket bobbed on the current, spun several times and then became an olive-colored patch downstream.

When the explosion splintered the bridge and dropped it into the turbulent river, the old man sat by the roadside in the rain and wept."

Eastlit Literary Journal, 2014 Summer Issue

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