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The Bridge
I sat on the edge of the bridge of life wondering what to do next; everything was going to hell and it seemed as though my best solution was to slip off the edge. I was wondering what the embrace of the darkness would feel like; would it be cold, lonelier, empty, when a black cat bounded onto my lap and looked me in the eye.
"Who are you?"
"Well, I'm you of course."
"A curious thing it is for a cat to tell you that he's you and you're him," I thought aloud.
"Do you want to jump off the bridge?" he asked, head slightly tilted.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it seems easier than walking on this long bridge."
"Don't you wonder where the bridge goes?"
I looked up into the clear blue sky in thought, then regarded the cat inquisitively.
"Do you know where it goes?"I asked.
"Somewhere nice."
"Have you ever been there?"
"No."
"Then how can you know it's nice, silly?"
"Because I just do."
"Can I do whatever I want when I get there?"
"What do YOU want?"
I looked ahead thoughtfully.
"I want to walk on the light of the sun and feel it's warmth on my skin, I want to drink from the clearest spring and see my reflection in it, to play the keys of the piano once again and sing in the morning light, to be cared for and have those to care for, to taste chocolate ice cream and chips at the same time, to never again be surrounded in darkness, to forever walk in the light."
"You can do all those things IF you get across the bridge."
"Will you come with me?"
"Of course."
"Will you never leave me?"
"I never have, and I never will "
The cat jumped off my lap and I stood up. I dusted off my trousers and, with the cat walking along, walked across the bridge.
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