Inspired by the bridge picture prompt

I would imagine that most people living in Wolf Springs couldn’t wait for a chance to escape. It was most people’s exact definition of a hick town. With the nearest Wal-Mart over an hour away, the town’s only claim to fame was having the only gas station in a ten mile radius. Most people, particularly the younger crowd, probably couldn’t wait to leave their small town life – you know, get out on their own, see new things, and feel the wind in their hair.

But that wasn’t me. I had never even lived there. I was born and raised in the hood of Detroit, Michigan, where I’d lived for the last twenty-some years of my life. After high school, I even stayed in my hometown to attend eight years of vet school. Yet I knew that I couldn’t stay in my hometown to do what I loved. Turns out no one in my neighborhood, one of the toughest inner city neighborhoods in America, needed a large animal vet. I applied to a job hundreds of miles away, in a small town off of an interstate I’d never heard. When I found out I’d been selected to fill in the retiring vet’s place, I packed up what little I had – I’d been waiting for this moment all my life, and so I’d been careful not to accumulate to many things. For the last day and a half I’d been driving, arriving closer with each tire rotation to my job and to my new life. No more rude drivers, no more fear of gunshots, no more hectic traffic. My life would now consist of birthing cows, helping horses through colic, and listening to small town gossip.

That’s why it was such a big moment when I saw the bridge into Wolf Springs, Colorado. It was the bridge into the reward that I had looked towards. Daydreaming about the bridge was what kept me going during college, when I worked two jobs and still survived finals week. The bridge gave me the tunnel vision I needed, and now it gave me the career I’d longed for.

As I neared the entrance of the bridge, I accelerated as fast as my elderly pick-up truck would allow me to. I entered the bridge over the river, and another car zoomed in the other direction. The words “just graduated” were written in large gold letters across the sides of the car. A handful of hyper teenagers were screaming and laughing inside, the noise fading as the car sped past me.

I grinned and shook my head. Bridges were all about perspectives.

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