beyond the bridge

She sat on the edge of the water and looked out. At the bridge. Beyond the bridge. She knew life would never be the same.

But would it be worse? Probably not. They say things work out for the best. They say when one door closes another opens. They say a lot of things. Who are They anyway. They clearly know nothing about anything. If They knew something, They would know that this wasn't for the best. They would know that doors are slamming shut and the rest are sealed.

She gazed again, beyond the bridge. Still, this would get better soon. And They are usually right, in the end. She looked to her left and noticed a small pink flower fighting for survival next to her bench.

She smiled and gazed again beyond the bridge. They say when one door closes... "A flower takes its place," she said aloud, to no one in particular. To the bridge.