The Bridge
A thing yearning to be what it once was
The bridge only went so far until it didn’t. The rusted spannings hanging in twisted steel over the river which coursed some hundred feet below. The ruined train tracks bowed outwards in shorn metal ribbons as if blindly seeking to connect again to the far beggared tracks. A thing yearning to be what it once was.
So many died.
“It’s okay,” he said to the little girl. “I’ve got you.” She opens the metal can and tips it forward. The ashes pouring in human sand to be taken by the wind in a spreading grey cloud.
“Goodbye, Papa.”
About the Creator
Kevin Rolly
Artist working in Los Angeles who creates images from photos, oil paint and gunpowder.
He is writing a novel about the suicide of his brother.
http://www.kevissimo.com/
FB: https://www.facebook.com/Kevissimo/
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More stories from Kevin Rolly and writers in Fiction and other communities.
The Leaving
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. The broken landscape slurred away in the darkening light with little to hold her gaze other than the shattering of trees which poke up skeletal from the barren hills or which lay strewn like charred bones from some primitive sacrifice. The pale sun guttered away behind thick clouds which smeared the sky in long strakes of grey and there would be no more birds ever again. The abandoned cities lay far beyond and lost from sight, the land motionless save for the faint stirrings of pale dust that rose like mindless wraiths to skirt across the splintered pavement only to disintegrate in the failing updraft against the rocks. She stared for a long time. The world in its dying and her first glance in which to behold it. She knew there was no one else save for the others here for they were the last of themselves.
By Kevin Rolly3 years ago in Fiction
The Devil's Cut
“Comrade, finally you’re awake.” The voice was smooth, sensual. A flickering incandescent bar was all that lit the white, sterile room. All Vladimir remembered was everything going black. He tried to move his arms and found them strapped to the gurney.
By Matthew J. Fromm4 days ago in Fiction
Him
Him. An unsuspecting commuter on an A-train... he sits gazing out the window, immersed in the view, seeing beyond a world of art which whizzes by as the landscape undulates, ebbs and flows. There is a surreal, dreamlike and beautiful view of nature beyond the window, where bamboo stalks grow impossibly tall, reaching towards a sky painted in the swirling, vibrant colors of a Baroque masterpiece. The interior of the train is dimly lit, casting long shadows. The peace it exudes evokes a painterly illustration with dramatic bright and dark lighting filled with rich textures.
By Antoni De'Leona day ago in Fiction
Comments (9)
Congratulations, well written
In a scant few words you reach great depths. Well done Kevin. ❤️
Wow! That opening paragraph. ❤️ Gorgeous work with so much beautiful use of language. Congratulations on your placement in the challenge! This piece was so moving to read.
So emotional and beautiful. Congratulations!! ❤️❤️
Congratulations on the runner up!!!♥️♥️💕
Congrats! 🎉 This was a well-deserved runner-up! Great job!! ❤️
Nicely done sir
Very nicely done. Surreal
This was so emotional and very well written!