(It has been edited to fit the 300 word max remit)
Darkness and light.
A bit like her life really, Sharon thought, as she approached the narrow aperture. Shadow and sunlight bathed the bridge in stark contrasts...
The lack of sunshine, cut off by the rough hewn stones piled one upon another, sent a shiver up her spine, and whipped her out of the nightmare memories in time to prevent herself tripping over the drunk lying right across the path underneath the bridge.
Venting her anger at allowing old memories in, and idiots who drank too much and passed out where they dropped, she stopped, bent over the man and discovered a pool of blood beneath his skull.
A closer look revealed a trail of blood that led to the side of the path. She looked round for help. No one behind her. Stepping over the inert form, she realised the one time you wanted company, company took a hike. She couldn’t leave him in the middle of the path for others to trip over as she nearly had, and bent to take a closer look at the man at her feet.
Lying face down, it was partially hidden from view.
His jacket was rucked up round his neck, masking more of his face, and the now obvious blow to his skull.
Sharon stared up at the bridge arcing high above her. Had someone hit him on the skull and pushed him over the bridge? If so, when, and where were they now? And why?
Why leave evidence of their crimes where anyone could find it?
Fear skittered up her spine. On the one morning she’d left her cell phone behind…
Sharon dropped to her knees and sighed with relief to feel a faint but steady pulse.
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