121) Bridge

He's terrified of sharks, so when the storm nails them to the
bridge back from the Keys, he snaps: the bridge will buckle,
the car will drop like a cartoon anvil to the Gulf's sandy floor, a
hammerhead will tear them open like pillows of blood. Plus
barracuda, she reminds him. Thanks. She says the bridge can take
it, the bridge will hold, but then why's it swaying like a drunken
tugboat? That's exactly why it won't break. It gives a little. It gives too
goddamn much. She stops the car. Sharks circle. Here they are:
home again so soon.

---Joel Brouwer