I lived on a flexible, rust-painted bridge that snaked its way around a large body of water. Just as I was thinking how fortunate it was that the bridge didn’t dip underwater, I noticed that the end of it next to me was submerged and that I was clinging to a portion that was barely above water level.
I also realized that the bridge had an intelligence and will of its own and that I didn’t know what it might do next. It seemed that the end was caught underwater, but I wasn’t sure.
I became aware of a boy nearby hanging onto my parents’ open back door and wondered if they’d adopted him. Determined to save him, I reached out, but he cowered from me.
I didn’t know where they were, I realized.