A Village Tryst

The bridge was lonely. In a small village, with only one way to cross the river, she had no companion.

The old hotel added an extra room at the very top. A fine view from a fine window, down to the river, down to the bridge.

Villagers from both sides of the river used their bridge often while going about their daily business and the bridge always paid attention. At least until now. Now she was distracted.

The new hotel room was at first proud to accommodate his guests. Plush and well-furnished, he took special pleasure in their compliments, but his interest in the visitors quickly waned.

The bridge looked up at the new room and ignored the villagers who were crossing back and forth.

The room looked down at the bridge, forgot about his clients, and noticed her interest. His was sparked.

Day after day they watched each other, their mutual contemplation growing and with it their desire to be together. But how?

A bridge, a room. What could they do?

On Thursday afternoon, the villagers put up a new sign to replace the faded and unreadable old one – Lea Bridge. Lea was the river so she must be the bridge.

She noticed a sign on the hotel too – ‘New Room!’ He was new, so he must be the room. An idea coursed through her structure.

A bridge, and a room. Could she do it?

On Saturday morning, the villagers gathered on both sides of the river, scratching their heads to ponder the inexplicable sight. Their bridge had gone.

The hotel owner was equally perturbed. His beautiful new room had similarly vanished, leaving the paying guests to awaken staring at the sky.

No bridge, no room. She’d done it.

In the small church on the outskirts, a newly married couple, very much in love, walked down the isle and out into the morning sunshine. She now no longer had to look up at him, and he no longer had to look down at her. They looked into each others’ eyes, and smiled.

No longer a bridge, no longer a room. But she a bride, and he a groom.

She had offered  him a part of her and he had accepted… the gift of her ‘g’.

~ by yearzerowriters on September 30, 2010.

10 Responses to “A Village Tryst”

  1. This is a lovely tale and I really like the traditional telling. The first two thirds in particular is very beguiling. The only thing that detracts, in my opinion is the phrasing of the last line. I get that this is (one of a series of pieces) where one letter makes a difference so that’s important but I’m not sure why the ‘gift of her g’ sounded a little weak to finish with. Overall a great tale.

  2. Simon, I love this series (whcih is what it feels like). They would make a wonderful collection, maybe with some line drawings? On the point Alison raises about the last line, it’s a tricky one “g” of course is one of those non-neutral letters, especially when you call the bridge “her”, what with strings and spots

    • I completely disagree–and especially what with strings and spots, Dan ;-)) I think her offering of her “g” (fill in your OWN blank or LEAVE it blank and take it literally) is just PURRRRfect.

      Amazingly endearing, Simon. I truly enjoyed the short short. Haven’t been keeping up with the rest of the alluded-to series, but might just have to check into it now!

  3. Gee, Simon. That was a sweet little piece.

  4. haha nice. this was brilliant

  5. I loved it, though I had to read the last line htree times before I ‘got it’.

  6. Thanks all. I’m still not sure about that last line (yes, Dan, strings and spots come to mind…)
    Would it be better with: She had offered him the fifth of her 6 parts and he had accepted. …?

  7. That’s vintage Simon – writing as clear as a mountain brook, but full of substance. Well done indeed!

  8. love it! I personally found the the last line unnecessary, as the ‘trick’ was clear from the preceding “bridge/room, bride/groom” line… but the last line should stay as it clarifies the tale just in case. I wouldn’t change it at all (especially since “fifth of 6 parts”, etc., would really muddy the water!)

  9. Loved this piece Simon. The last line works for me.

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