Lost Journals

She drove over the bridge and parked the car by the side of the road. Boards jumped as she walked to the center of the rustic structure. Rough hewn timers creaked and moaned as they settled into their pilings. Show fell in huge flakes. The only sounds were the pinging of the cooling car engine, a train rumbling in the distance and the occasional burbling of the stream below Peri's feet.

She stood for a long moment recalling all that had happened here: the joyous- Sean's proposal - the tragic - the dusting of his ashes - and the desperate - nearly jumping to her death. And now the healing.

Peri pulled up her left sleeve and looked at her forearm. The white scars that ran from wrist to elbow looked as though someone had tried to stuff her into a paper shredder, failed, and haphazardly glued the pieces back together.

The cuts done to quell the pain swelling inside, were meant to silence her head and not to silence her.

Peri hated these scars yet she knew all of them stemmed from the memories contained in this one bit of Iowa landscape - a landscape etched in her every movement.

This bridge had seen her love, her loss, and now her leaving. It was now a symbol of who she used to be. It was time to cross it and not look back - just remember.