The Bridge of Questions

The sun wasn’t shining bright, but it was still a nice day to be outside. The air was calm and the tufted titmouse was singing its song, from its perch, in the blushing pink Dogwood tree.

Sabrina took a deep breath in of the Spring air, smiling, as she continued her walk. She had no real destination. She had just decided that she needed a walk to clear her brain and what better way was there, than to be out in nature.

She continued walking and ended up walking out of her neighborhood and into a lush green meadow, with an array of different colored tulips. The bees buzzed around her as they flew from flower to flower. She watched them as they intently went about their business paying no heed to her, they had work to do. She watched the little spotted ladybug crawling up a stem. While taking a break and sitting down, she felt something crawling on her leg. Looked down to see a little green caterpillar inching its way across her leg.

So many little things to notice, if one just take the time and opens their eyes. She spied some brown speckled mushrooms and wondered if tiny fairies really did live under them.

After resting for a bit, she got up on her feet and continued her walk. Leaving the meadow she wandered down the hill, and around the bend. Up ahead she saw a bridge with an older man sitting on it, staring out into the water running under the bridge. She figured she would walk over to him and possibly strike up a conversation. She was in no hurry, so why not.

As she kept walking towards the bridge she saw the man turn his head and look directly at her. He kept staring as she walked closer, and he wasn’t showing any hint of a smile. Sabrina felt herself getting a little nervous, but being a curious person by nature she kept walking.

“Stop!” the man said, just as she was about to set foot on the bridge.

Sabrina’s eyes widened in shock, and she quickly came to a stop in front of him.

“Where are you headed?”  The man gruffly asked.

“Well before you so rudely stopped me, I was headed across the bridge.” Sabrina retorted, sounding braver than she felt.

“Why do you want to cross the bridge,” the man asked with a little gruffer tone.

Sabrina paused a moment and then without batting an eye, “To get to the other side of course!”

The man didn’t respond right away, as Sabrina tried to give him her most stern look,  which was hard, for she wasn’t stern very often.

“A little sassy, aren’t you!” the man replied. Sabrina said nothing, as she tried to hold her stare.

“Well since you think you are so clever, here is the deal. You must answer some questions of mine, and if answered to my satisfaction, I will allow you to cross the bridge.”

Some questions, thought Sabrina, how hard could his questions really be. She was up to a challenge.

Giving him a coy smile she said, “No problem, I will answer your questions, give it your best shot, old man.”

At her reply the man’s face gave its first hint of a smile. ” Not so quick missy…”

Before he could continue, she interrupted and said, “My name is Sabrina, old man!”

The old man let out a laugh, with a gleam in his eyes. “What I was saying, young missy, ” giving her  a sly smile. “You will need to answer some questions in order to cross the bridge. For now though, you need to return home, tomorrow I will begin with the questions.”

“Tomorrow!” Sabrina replied, ” Why must I wait?”

“Because…” said the man,” Now be off and I will see you tomorrow, unless you want to back down and change your mind.”

Sabrina narrowed her eyes and stuck out her chin, “I’m not changing my mind, I will see you tomorrow….” and she turned to walk away.  Looking back over her shoulder she said, “Goodbye for now, old man!”

**Okay my friends, what questions would you ask Sabrina? Got to give your quarantined brains a little exercise. Share your questions below, do you think she will be able to answer them or will she find herself stuck, and unable to cross the bridge? **


36 thoughts on “The Bridge of Questions

  1. Maya Angelou said : “There is no greater agony that bearing an untold story inside you.” Therefore I could not possibly consider telling any part of this story, as my doing so would prolong the agony of having yours remain untold. In short dear storyteller, you little weaver of tales…I have no questions! Thank-you!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. you do know how to start a conversation! I enjoyed the walk, you painted a lovely scene, the dogwood tress were so pretty. This is like an Aesop’s fable kind of story. I would like to ask Sabrina, what was the last thing she did for someone before she left her house. just playing along.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I want to go with Jason’s question. But since he took it, I’ll try a different one. I’d ask, “Why didn’t you just knock me off the bridge yesterday, and cross anyway? I’m just a crotchety old man with a heart condition, whom you could easily beat up.”

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Question #1: Who won the International Polo Cup in 1876? Question #2: What is the purpose of life? Question #3: Have you seen a Weeping Willow with a small white cross ‘neath it? (I haven’t been reading many blogs this week, for a lack of time and energy, but a mutual friend directed me here tonight, and of course I couldn’t resist the challenge!)

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Pingback: The Bridge of Questions … Part 2 | Nuggets of Gold

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