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A Bridge

            A bridge, empty as can be in the night with only a few lights showing dimly; gleaming off broken glass on the road.  Quiet murmurs of cars going and coming in neighborhoods don’t quite reach this bridge’s ears.  Remembering its two hundred year history it beams with a smile.

          This bridge has felt every car manufactured since the late 1800’s in the United States.  From Olds Motor Vehicle Company to the brand new 3500Z Hover-Made Nissan rolled their wheels to air wheels.  The old bridge was content with its life so far.  Seeing all of the generations of humans come and go, never having feelings here nor there for them.  What is the next type of human that will come along?

          It used to be top hats and generosity.  Caring for one another and the rest of human kind was a steeple of human kind.  The 1920’s brought happiness and partying.  Humans sung and danced and treaded lightly on their feet.  Holding hand and hand they would attend movies together and travel over me to get there.  Then came a disaster for human kind, they would tread over me clumsily.  They moped and pouted and saved everything they had.  After they started to pick back up on spirits a nasty piece of human work came about.

They called it a world war.  Sadness struck the hearts of the Americans.  Their brothers and sisters came and went on those flying machines in the sky.  Those that traveled under me must have gotten a lift in spirit because they would be smiling as they rolled down the river underneath me.  Maybe their spirits picked up because they realized their achievements so far.  Then we moved into the 40’s together and the people of America brightened up but they had to kill people to do it.

Sayings like, “go up to your kind policemen; he’ll tell you where to go,” came about.  This was one of those strange sayings that didn’t last very long.  Human wishes increased as time went by and another saying to those young fools in school I heard once as a family crossed the river below me.  “If wishes were fishes, then we’d all have a fry,” which I found funny because of all of the smiling fishes below me.

The 50’s were much the same as the 40’s but their cars started to become fun and powerful.  Some people tried to race over me and sometimes got caught by those nice policemen.  Those racers were gangs of humans in disguise.  On different levels they came in small groups that fought one another, although they were one in the same.

Then flower power came.  Some of the nice humans planted flowers near my feet and put some on my head.  Their cars became faster and cooler.  I especially liked the late 60’s when it comes to those wonderful moving cars.  Oh, did the 68 Chevelle show me what humans were made of.

Can you dig it man?  That phrase was a favorite in the next decade.  Racism was dying down in some areas but picking up in other areas.  Peace if only they could hold it would show how powerful they really were capable of.

Then there were the scary looking humans who carried large boom-boxes and spiky, weird hair to go across my stones.  The cars were fuglier then the 70’s and that is saying something.  When awesome, bad and airhead were popular terms that the people used to one another.   Oh my, what a life indeed.

In the 90s women wore foot ball player style shoulder pads for a while.  Then the cars became sleeker.  There were other problems in the 90’s since all the humans stay in gangs of religion and thought.  Wars broke out over what they help run their vehicles with.  I don’t see why they can’t just find an alternative source.  If only they knew all the energy sources right here on their own planet.

Scary as it is Americans went crazy in the 2000’s at the turn of the century.  They were scared of their own shadows.  It was quite funny and made me rumble.  Although they were attacked which people died and was sad.  You would think they would have patients since they built things like me that stood the sands of time and was as patients as a stone….ha ha my little joke.

Boy did the humans get a shock in the 2010’s.  But because I am talking to those in the past we will save that as a surprise for you.  Just know that I survived and you will be better off.  I must go to sleep now and watch the rest of human history soon.  Have a good one everyone who read this writing of mine.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

Haunting

            Moan, moan, and moan.  This is the constant noise coming from the house across the way.  A tall three floor home that once could have been beautiful.  The paint falls off like fall leaves off a tree.  Gutters hanging limp and off their hooks.  Each window has at least one crack in it.  The windows like to shutter on their own sometimes.  The roof is like a fluffy bed of green, filled with moss and other unsanitary things.  Rot is built and ramped throughout the outside of the house.

            The inside isn’t really known about.  The only survivors from going into the house are now mad and in nice, white and padded rooms.  Hopefully those poor souls with find peace someday again, most likely in death.  Yells from the unfortunate people that had gotten trapped in the house could be heard in the asylum whenever the doors were open.

            From their mad writings the house sounds haunted.  Haunting at that location has been going on for a long time, possibly almost 200 years.  There are many stories but the most recent was when the last family moved in.  This was almost 40 years gone.  It was a large family.  The husband and wife seemed very much in love.  Their 6 children all ranged from the ages of 1 – 10 and got on well with the other children around the neighborhood.  This was a typical family back in the day when all seemed right.

            Apparently they were warned not to move into this house but whoever listens to ghost stories that are sane.  Proper, respectful and right of mind is just how the business man thought.  If you don’t believe there is nothing to fear.  If he had listened he wouldn’t have ended up of taken on such a murderous persona.

            He started with the youngest by hanging her by the toes with sheets wrapped around the chandelier.  The rest of the family was tied to ornate fireplace in the same room.  They watched as the child swung crying out for her mother.  As naked as a babe is how the saying goes and that is how the father killed it.  Leaving it naked and swinging from the chandelier by her toes.  A most painful way to die; blood rushing to the head and not being able to breathe correctly is always hard to watch.  Finally, exhaustion made the child fall into the eternal sleep of death.

            Then the 3 year old boy was next.  This is not for the faint of heart.  Dad must have been either scared to death or crazy as a loon on holiday.  He nailed box nails through each of this poor child’s fingers and toes.  Father then took his bat that he had gotten from the Yankees and bludgeoned his son in the chest until it smashed all of his insides together.  His mother had gone quiet and was just staring into space by that point.

            Twins were the next chosen in his murderous madness.  Those two were 5 according to legend.  He placed them, tied together inside the fireplace above the grates.  They were begging him and howling and begging and saying, “Please no daddy.”  This did no good, he was almost in a trance, as cold as an icicle.  Lighting the kindling with a match the fire starts to envelope underneath the children.  Once the clothing is caught that the children were wearing they lit up like dry hay in August.  The stench must have been horrific and the screams were supposedly like a train whistle.

            The last two were the oldest and whether he pitied them or not, no one really knows.  They were killed quickly by a quick blunt force to the head.  The problem authorities had in identifying what had happened to them was putting the pieces back together.  Those two were dismembered and each piece was placed in different parts of the house.   The hatchet he had used was never found.

            Last to be killed was his wife who almost thanked him for the mercy of killing her.  She could no longer breathe right.  Deep in thought or more likely scared out of her mind she followed along as he pulled her by the hands that were taught with tension by the rope that binds them together.  He ties her to the bed.  Then her life ends with a slit throat.  Slit throat would probably not be the word since the slit went all the way to her spine.

            After he was done with her he walked quietly through the house.  Standing at the railing looking at the chandelier where his youngest still hung his head leans slightly to the left and he frowns.  Knowing all he had done this kin slayer of what once was known as a man.  He did a header to the floor.  The fall broke his neck immediately.  Too fast of a death for a man who tortured his own children most say.

            This story was known as Forebear of Darkness.  People still see the man staring out the window sometimes.  Hearing the moans of the children are the most frightening.  The mother tries to attract people from the street to bring them into her fold.  No one really knows how many lives she has claimed.

            Happy Halloween to all and remember don’t enter strange houses and listen to the legends because sometimes they are true.

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