There is a bridge in my hometown, the walking bridge, that takes you from Louisville, Kentucky, to Jeffersonville, Indiana. You can walk across the Ohio River.
Whenever someone from out of town visits Louisville, I always take them to the walking bridge at sunset.
It was my college friend’s first time in Louisville over our break from school and, naturally, I took her to the walking bridge.
Clouds covered most of the sky as the sun began to set. At first, there wasn’t much to see. This is not going to be a good sunset, I thought.
I mentally cursed myself for deciding on this evening.
Then, as if the sky wanted to prove me wrong, the clouds opened up to display rows of reds, purples and oranges in full vibrancy. The colors reflected off the water, creating a swirl of sunset in the ripples.
When I was a kid I used to think if I stood in the exact center of the bridge, with one foot on either side, I would have one foot in both Kentucky and Indiana.
It doesn’t work like that. But still, I can’t help but smile to myself when I cross the center of the bridge.
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