The Pale Bridge
The water in the reservoir behind the Millhaven Dam has not been still for forty years, and yet it holds your reflection with a fidelity that borders on malice. You stand on the concrete spillway, the wind from the valley pulling at the hem of your heavy work jacket, and you look down into the black, oily surface to see your own face staring back. It is a face you do not recognize, or perhaps...
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