The Bridge That Crossed Itself

It was meant to be a symbol of unity — a sleek steel bridge spanning the canyon between East and West Morrow. The first car crossed at dawn. By nightfall, the first car never arrived.

Police searched both ends. Nothing. Tire marks stopped mid-span, as if the car had vanished into air.

At first, people blamed fog or faulty railings. But the disappearances continued — a cyclist, a bus, a wedding party. Then came the hikers who swore the bridge sometimes didn’t lead where it should. “It bends,” one said. “Not in shape — in place.”

A journalist drove across with a camera rolling. The footage ends mid-sentence, replaced by static and faint screaming. When police reviewed the last frame, the bridge didn’t connect the same cliffs. It reached into fog.

Now, the government has fenced it off. Still, some nights, headlights appear — cars that cross from nowhere, then fade before reaching the gate.

Locals say it’s not a bridge anymore. It’s a road looking for an ending.