The Bridge on Porter Street 5/10

November 23, 2009
The nurse left the room and the police phoned my parents again. They told them what happened and they thought I was crazy. They would not let me leave the house in about two weeks to make sure I was not going insane. I called Silva and told her that I was very sick but should be fine for Halloween. I did not want to tell her the truth because she would think I am crazy too. Thirteen days went by and my mother had a chore for me.
“Jon, will you bring these flowers over to Tim’s house for his family?”
“But mom, that means I have to pass over the bridge and its Halloween night!”
My mom quickly cut me off, “Don’t you want to show some respect to Tim’s family? I will give you one hour and behave yourself.”
I ran down Easton Street heading towards another bridge. It took about fifteen minuets more to take that route instead of taking the Porter Street Bridge. When I arrived at Tim’s house nobody was home. I secured the flowers to a chair on his front porch to make sure the wind would not blow them away. I started to walk back down Easton Street to the bridge but something was not right. There were flames, police cars, fireman and ambulances on the bridge. I ran over to the scene “What happened?” I said to the police officer.
“There was a car accident, the driver got in a collision with another car. Nobody is allowed to cross the bridge at this time.”
“But I need to cross the bridge” I whined. “I need to be home in a half hour”.
“Why don’t you take the Porter Street Bridge, its faster?”





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