It was only recently that I crossed a bridge to get to work. The bridge was the same bridge as everytime I cross it. The handrail, the graffiti art, the cycleway, even the river beneath the bridge. But this time the world around was missing.
In this surrounding of wool-like exhalation, a spider’s web collection of drops anchored between here and there. And I remembered a German palindrome: Nebel // Leben, reflecting mist and life.
As I played the back and forth of Nebel-Leben-Nebel-Leben in my mouth, a boat went by, appearing and disappearing between the limitations of river and sky and everything in between.