There's something about crossing that bridge, the one that carries me across the muddy waters. It's tangible, the shift I feel as I pass from one state to the next.
The past to the present. The known to the uncertain.
Above my head, a sign serves as an official homecoming. Down below, the great river swirls and churns, mighty and swift.
It's creative and destructive. Mystical and inspirational.
Countless tales of love and loss have played out among the hills that roll up and away from the river's banks. This is just one of them.
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