Building Bridges (bridge series #16)

We are sisters, she and I, though we share no common blood.Our friendship started out the ordinary way, we read the same books, laughed at the same jokes, enjoyed the same movies, and we cried together.  The public doesn’t see our swollen eyes, only we see them, even when we have not been crying, we both know they are just below the surface. We are Sisters in Pain.

 I was almost half way over the bridge of change when I heard her call, and I hurried back. She was in pain, and she fears her bridge of change, even though it is coming at her like a freight train.

I have sent many over the bridge, I have guided many over the bridge, holding their hands until it is time to let go, I believe that is my duty in this life. Now I am faced with a loved one that fears the very bridge itself, not just what is on the other side.

I stick my arms with safety pins sometimes as a way of killing time, just to see if I can bleed, yet I never do. I continue on in the vain belief that if I can bleed on the outside I will stop bleeding on the inside.

Again, no blood today, I toss the pin across the room and consider for the first time that maybe my duty has evolved into something more than being the ferryman. Maybe I am to become the very bridge itself, a bridge she can trust to stay steady as she crosses over to a new future without me or the pain that binds us. I glance at the clock, it’s quitting time, I’m out the door, the safety pin already forgotten.

Somewhere in the desert a woman called Coral is randomly sticking her forearms with a safety pin to see if she can draw blood. She never has bled before and is only mildly suprised when one pin prick yeilds up two drops of blood before scabbing over. She shrugs it off, it won’t leave a scar, they never do.

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