The bridge in Central Park inspired the 1970’s painter, as he saw the autumn leaves tumbling down into the water underneath the bridge. With the buildings lit up in the background, and slight fall chill making the trees sway, he sat down in the darkness of the park and began to paint.
The bridge between the two worlds was closing. Slowly, and steadily, it began to shut. Now almost fully sealed, however, if one were to try and get through, one could. This was exactly what Taylor just did, he leaped through the empty matter of space and landed with a cry in our world.
The rope bridge stretched across the chasm in front of me. 100 feet long and 5 feet wide, it was daunting and I stood on the side I didn’t want to be on.
The mist was thick in the chasm below me. I had no idea how far down the bottom was nor what lay in wait there for me.
Eileen Maki
There was once this bridge, so big so beautiful. But then someone through rocks at it. It broke and is bits floated down the river forever.
Amahdi
The bridge is out, and you have to find your way around it. You’re worried. You’re not used to this area, and the back roads can be tricky. Your phone’s GPS doesn’t even recognize half of them. You sigh and pull out the map, preparing yourself for today’s unexpected and unwelcome adventure.
I want to bridge the gap between love and hate. I want to bridge the gap between normal and abnormal. Between cruel and kind. I want to bridge the gap between understanding and misunderstanding. I want a bridge.
Melanie
She looked out over the water and saw him on the bridge. She got her binoculars out and took a closer look. It was, indeed the man of her dreams whose face she had seen countless nights in her fantasies. Now, here he was, about to commit suicide and there was nothing she could do about it.
Though London bridge may be falling down, it is still the link of here and there. Thus it is one with now and then, but will not be again anymore.
Grace
You cross them over water and a land bridge is how the first people of America got here, according to scientist :) I like Bridges.
Becca
Gastronomy of a bridge: twenty cars an hour, seven trucks per day. A rural bridge. Over a trout stream. Two pedestrians: Me and Joe. He’s barefoot. Halfway across, the bridge bucks, swallows him whole. Leaves me crouched on the boards, wondering if I’m next.
I cross a bridge to board my ship
that ship of dreams which will transport me from this world to the next
as I tread across the long, worn planks I hear the music that plays to welcome me
sweet dulcet sounds which lift my soul
She strode over the small footbridge, stopping in the middle. Hands grasped her arms from behind, causing her to jump a little. Turning around she saw a face she had lost all of hope of seeing ever again. He smiled.
k
always appear when I have a huge transition in my life in my dreams. They terrify me, and I only cross them after I complete my task at hand.
Stacy
There was a bridge in the county over. It had an odd history about it. I won’t bore you with that now. I am on my way to the mental hospital. I finally snapped I think. I am checking my self in without a moments notice. I feel like I am drowning in my own life and no one else notices, or cares. Help
Kenny
support, strong, safe, take from one side to the other, tooth support, card game,
sandy
Jechałem mostem swoim ślniącym, czerwonym cabrioletem rocznik 75. Obok mnie siedziała kuso ubrana, piękna 22-letnia modelka. Czułem szczęście. Czy to jest szczęście? Czy ja przypadkiem czegoś nie pomyliłem?
across to the divine plateau where reason meets infinity. Here we are whole as a rainbow parts through the sky, so we part the sea and waves of humanity. Cesspools turn to graceful waterfalls, fresh-flowing, purifying the wasteland with truth
MK
There is a bridge near my house. a long windy, curvy bridge. What happened on that bridge i cannot say. That was the day that i regret. I live in fear of it coming back. It leads from one place to another. The bridge near my house.
The bridge in Central Park inspired the 1970’s painter, as he saw the autumn leaves tumbling down into the water underneath the bridge. With the buildings lit up in the background, and slight fall chill making the trees sway, he sat down in the darkness of the park and began to paint.
c
The bridge between the two worlds was closing. Slowly, and steadily, it began to shut. Now almost fully sealed, however, if one were to try and get through, one could. This was exactly what Taylor just did, he leaped through the empty matter of space and landed with a cry in our world.
The rope bridge stretched across the chasm in front of me. 100 feet long and 5 feet wide, it was daunting and I stood on the side I didn’t want to be on.
The mist was thick in the chasm below me. I had no idea how far down the bottom was nor what lay in wait there for me.
There was once this bridge, so big so beautiful. But then someone through rocks at it. It broke and is bits floated down the river forever.
The bridge is out, and you have to find your way around it. You’re worried. You’re not used to this area, and the back roads can be tricky. Your phone’s GPS doesn’t even recognize half of them. You sigh and pull out the map, preparing yourself for today’s unexpected and unwelcome adventure.
I want to bridge the gap between love and hate. I want to bridge the gap between normal and abnormal. Between cruel and kind. I want to bridge the gap between understanding and misunderstanding. I want a bridge.
She looked out over the water and saw him on the bridge. She got her binoculars out and took a closer look. It was, indeed the man of her dreams whose face she had seen countless nights in her fantasies. Now, here he was, about to commit suicide and there was nothing she could do about it.
spanning the chasm, a single iron girder, bolted at each end but rusting, and worn thin.
Though London bridge may be falling down, it is still the link of here and there. Thus it is one with now and then, but will not be again anymore.
You cross them over water and a land bridge is how the first people of America got here, according to scientist :) I like Bridges.
Gastronomy of a bridge: twenty cars an hour, seven trucks per day. A rural bridge. Over a trout stream. Two pedestrians: Me and Joe. He’s barefoot. Halfway across, the bridge bucks, swallows him whole. Leaves me crouched on the boards, wondering if I’m next.
I cross a bridge to board my ship
that ship of dreams which will transport me from this world to the next
as I tread across the long, worn planks I hear the music that plays to welcome me
sweet dulcet sounds which lift my soul
She strode over the small footbridge, stopping in the middle. Hands grasped her arms from behind, causing her to jump a little. Turning around she saw a face she had lost all of hope of seeing ever again. He smiled.
always appear when I have a huge transition in my life in my dreams. They terrify me, and I only cross them after I complete my task at hand.
There was a bridge in the county over. It had an odd history about it. I won’t bore you with that now. I am on my way to the mental hospital. I finally snapped I think. I am checking my self in without a moments notice. I feel like I am drowning in my own life and no one else notices, or cares. Help
support, strong, safe, take from one side to the other, tooth support, card game,
Jechałem mostem swoim ślniącym, czerwonym cabrioletem rocznik 75. Obok mnie siedziała kuso ubrana, piękna 22-letnia modelka. Czułem szczęście. Czy to jest szczęście? Czy ja przypadkiem czegoś nie pomyliłem?
across to the divine plateau where reason meets infinity. Here we are whole as a rainbow parts through the sky, so we part the sea and waves of humanity. Cesspools turn to graceful waterfalls, fresh-flowing, purifying the wasteland with truth
There is a bridge near my house. a long windy, curvy bridge. What happened on that bridge i cannot say. That was the day that i regret. I live in fear of it coming back. It leads from one place to another. The bridge near my house.