“New Man on the Bridge”, a Friday Fiction Story

New Man on the Bridge

Small Bridge by BiancavanDijk on Pixabay

The two men took a few deliberate steps on the little road bridge that spanned the creek. ONe of the men was older, with a bit of a belly and a few more strands of grey hair than he wanted. The other was younger, his pants crisply-pressed, his phone out snapping a couple pictures of the bridge and the road beyond.

“Trip trap! Trip trap,” went the bridge.

“Who’s that tripping over my–oh, hey Jeff,” said a voice from the bank of the creek, tucked where neither of the men could see. It was a rough voice, booming at first, then pleasant and friendly.

“Morning, Lou,” said the older of the two men. “Bringing a new man around to meet you. He’s going to have this bit of the county now.”

“Oh! You’re retiring then?”

“It’s time, you know? Anyhow, this is Bradley. He’s a good man. You’ll get along well.”

“Cheers, Bradley,” the troll exclaimed. A scaly grey-green claw extended up from under the bridge.

Bradley took a couple of steps toward it, more on polite instinct than thought. He leaned down to shake the proffered claw, then thought better of it. “Err…it’s nice to meet you Mr. Lou, but I don’t think it’s wise to shake your hand!”

A raucous laugh rolled across the quiet creek and slightly shook the bridge. “He’s a bright one, sure! He’ll do, Jeff!”

Jeff smiled at Bradley. “Indeed he will, Lou. Now, get hid away so we can get this inspection done.”


This story was fun to write and I wish I had just a few more words. But 250 is what I have so 250 is what I use! 

I confess, I chose this picture for the prompt because I very much want to live in a town that has a bridge like that.

(Photo Credit: BiancavanDijk on Pixabay)

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