In The Occupied Territory

By FinHall

Graffiti Bridge

In the early hours of the morning, some hours before dawn breaks,
If it ever breaks this morning.
There is silence all around and still is the atmosphere.
The mysterious, dark bridge; festooned in places with graffiti lies in your path.
Your path to where you must go. where you and only you must venture.
The gate, although well and truly locked, has ample room at the side for you to traverse through. But do you have the courage, the fortitude to venture forth?
What lies in the dark?
What lurks in the hidden blackness?
Tentatively you take one step, then another; hesitatively, another.
Until, until....

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