If there is one thing that I’m particularly good at it is burning bridges. Over the years I’ve torched more than a few; disappointing both friends and family. None could be repaired, but over the last few years I’ve tried to build new ones. And I think I’ve done a pretty good job. I’ve got a wife, a baby on the way, a good if boring job, and we’re about able to get our own flat.
But here’s the thing. That itch that leads to blowing up my life and destroying those around me, well it’s begun again. I’ve tried to ignore it which only worked for awhile. Then I tried to pacify it by taking off from work for a pint every now and then, or going for hours long walks in the middle of the night. But the itch persisted and has now made it clear that the only way I was to get any relief was to burn my newly built connections.
I sit on the hill overlooking the city. An old, regal city full of history. Something I could not say about my own life. I look down to the river and count the bridges; exactly the same number as the connections in my life I was about to ruin. The sun peaks over the horizon casting the metropolis in a warm golden glow. With a cleansing sigh I stand up and sling the back pack across my shoulders. My feet set to walking, striking the match that lights my beautifully created bridges afire.
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I am so glad Moi has restarted the Once More With Feeling Challenge. His picture prompts almost always got my creative juices flowing. What comes to mind when you see this picture? Write it, post it, link it.