Seventy-Two Bricks

The following is a short excerpt from 'Seventy-Two Bricks', one of eight stories in 'Strange Medicine'.



‘Well I never,’ he said.
‘What a coincidence!’ said Tiffany. ‘It’s as if the bridge knew you were coming!’
Geoffrey smiled. ‘I’ll put my initials next to yours,’ Tiffany said. She removed her rucksack, rummaged inside it,
produced a penknife, then scratched ‘TS’ next to the ‘GD’.

Later the same day, the lovers were crossing a field when Tiffany pointed and said:
‘Geoffrey, look! It’s another bridge!’
There, in the middle of the field, was a small, red brick bridge, identical to the one they had seen earlier.
‘I wonder what this one is for,’ Tiffany said. The couple approached the bridge together. ‘Was there once a stream here too?’ Tiffany speculated.
‘Or perhaps these bridges don’t have a purpose other than to just be themselves. They’re very nice. Perhaps that’s their purpose: just to be nice. That’s enough, isn’t it?’
Geoffrey walked to one end of the bridge and searched amongst the grass where the bricks met the ground.
‘Look,’ he said as he picked up a long, white feather. ‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ said Tiffany. Geoffrey walked to the other end of the bridge, parted
the grass and found a mouldering joke book. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘that solves the question of this bridge’s purpose. It’s a bridge between two things that can make you laugh,’ and he tickled Tiffany’s nose with the
feather. Tiffany laughed then clapped her hands.