by Caitlin Marceau
My toes c
around the edge u
of the wooden beam r
l
I s
w
a
y
side
to
side
to
side
The wind p u l l s at me
tendrils r e a c h i n g for me
s
w l
i around me
n r
g
But I can’t feel anything it
I get ready
It’s — almost! — time
The moonlight shines
through
m e
to the water
f
a
r
below
Any second
Now
He stands across from me
on the
B R I D G E
He isn’t really
there
But I’m not really
here
But we are.
The fear I’m so used to
OVERWHELMS me
He steps forward
His heavy footf
a
l
l
s silent
His burning rage
long since
ice cold
He’s coming for…
He wants… me.
He’ll hurt…
He can’t have…
The man rushes forward
And I
jump
f
a f
l a f
l l u
i l r
n i t
g n h d
g e o
r w
n
Until I’m gone
deep below the water
r
o
w
n
i
n
g
The m
o
o
n hangs in the sky
White light illuminating
the bridge that fills the
g ap between
then
and
now
here
and
there
I s
t
a
n
d
waiting
My toes c
around the edge u
of the wooden beam r
l
I s
w
a
y
side
to
side
to
side…
CAITLIN MARCEAU is an author and professional editor living and working in Montreal. She holds a B.A. in Creative Writing and is a member of the Horror Writers Association. If she’s not covered in ink or wading through stacks of paper, you can find her ranting about issues in pop culture or nerding out over a good book. For more, check out CaitlinMarceau.ca.