Sunday Photo Fiction – Crossing The Bridge When You Come To It

This is a follow-up to the last Sunday Photo Fiction post I did – A Bridge Not Quite Far Enough – where I apparently went over my word count and ended the story:

The boys ran onto the bridge, and one of them pulled him back, throwing him to the floor. As they looked down on him, they saw his eyes widen. The boys looked around and…

I seem to have gone over my word count

If you want to read other stories written by other people who take part in the challenge, then take a look here.

91 12 December 14th 2014


… There was nothing there. They turned back to Jericho, but he scrambled to his feet and launched himself at the bridge. He knew he should have run the other way, but right now he wanted to be as far from the bullies as he could possibly be. He looked over his shoulder and saw them running, but then they skidded to a stop and backpedalled away. He felt no different; he knew his fear of the bridge could only have been in his mind. He turned around and stopped. He found himself on top of a parapet, he could see for miles. He walked to the edge and looked down, watching people moving around far below.

He looked back to the bridge, but it no longer existed. Shoving his hands in his pocket, he pulled out the chocolate egg he had been saving, and he removed the wrapping, ready to eat it. He glanced over the edge and then back at the chocolate, and back over the edge. Holding the egg over the side he prepared to let go as images went through his mind of the outcome.

The egg hit the ground and exploded into a gooey mess
The egg hit the ground and just stayed in spot, just slightly cracked.
The egg fell through a hole and hit the bullies.
The egg hit someone walking past.

His decision was to eat it as he felt hungry.