Monday, December 3, 2012

Chapter 1: The Yellow-Brick Bridge (Queensboro)

"The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world." F. Scott Fitzgerald "The Great Gatsby"

On the eve of her 20th year reign, she stood at the foot of the bridge admiring the path across in angst. She closed her eyes slowly and for a moment she just stood there, breathing in the East River. With school a few stops south and a new job just a few blocks east, this was the closest she'd ever physically been to the bridge.. yet standing there, she wondered how much further.

 To the rest of New York city, Queensboro bridge was just  black pavement set atop these giant pillars that would take them to and from work every weekday morning. Who'd ever think twice about a ratty old bridge? But like herself, there's always more to it than what met even the prettiest big brown eyes. Standing on this bridge she felt part of a story, like the "The Great Gatsby" or that 60's Simon and Garfunkel song. This bridge was a symbol. A road between  her life and her future, yellow brick and all. The county of Queens and the Empire City, except in her ruby red stiletto Mary Janes, she wouldn't dare be caught dead in...slippers.

Yes, all of this recent progression made that "Tiffany Diamond in the rough" look a little bit more cut and polished lately. And if Queensboro bridge was her yellow brick road, then its true, technically this was the closest she'd ever been. But was this a sign or merely a coincidence? At times even she, with the widest eyes of all the star-gazers, wondered if her dreams were too big. Even she wondered if the life she'd imagined was not in her destiny.

  But in that same second it took to doubt herself she recalled some words of wisdom, "destiny is for losers. It’s just a stupid excuse to wait for things to happen instead of making them happen..." She'd never relied on destiny before, so why start now? After all, incase you didnt know, the Queensboro bridge was designed for heavier loads than any other bridge. There was no such thing as a dream too big. Not for New York City, not in The City She Loves...

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