the donkey bridge

Soon we will arrive at the bridge. When we get to the bridge I will lead you over it. Do not be scared; we shall cross it together.

The donkey crosses his eyes. He shakes his ears. His hind legs tremble.

Donkey, we have come so far, we have carried so much. We must go on.

There is no other way but forward.

And the donkey bows his head for he knows this to be true.

Perhaps if there was to be a pretty female donkey waiting on the other side, he thinks. Or some good food to eat, or a cool place to rest. But no, we cross only to keep going. And there will always be another bridge to cross.

The donkey sighs a hefty donkey sigh.

Look, here is the bridge. Do you recognise it? We have crossed it many times before.

The donkey does not recognise it and he thinks it looks particularly unsafe. He stamps his feet and bares his teeth in disgust at the world.

Your mother and father crossed this bridge. And their mother and father before them. Are you going to bring shame upon your family?

They couldn't care less, thinks the donkey. They're dead.

The trees begin to rustle in the gathering wind.

The clouds begin to gather in the closing dark.

It is now or never.

Never, thinks the donkey, as he makes the first step.

Never, thinks the donkey, as he makes the second.

(Antigua, Guatemala, 25/01/07)