Thriving and dying. The bridge was the and, you see? You don’t see…

On the east side sat the hospital, shuttered after the war. The TB wing along made people want to burn it down but no one could promise that that wouldn’t destroy the bridge and what was beyond it so shuttering would have to do.

Beyond the bridge a powerful showing, an empire in two words; Sweet Surrender. Baselines that could crack windows, no telling the number per night who dream of more. The powerful watch from above, knowing that the bridge is locked, working to make it stay there…