Ficlets

Cold wind brushed against my face. My hair trailing behind me in wisps flowing with the wind. The bridge was full of golden lights that night. The moon was full and the water below a slick and threatening black. My heart pounded as I gripped the railing. The water hiding its mysteries in its black exterior. I twisted Irish claddagh ring on my index finger & gripped my celtic knot ring. I jerked them off in a harsh manner and gave them to those daring Irish waters. Hoping they received my gift, by now I swung my leg over the railing. Staring down I leaned forward. The coldness of the metal bars burning into my legs with an intensity that I could only bear for a few more moments. I closed my eyes and said a short saying my grandma would say to me on this bridge.
“May the roads rise to meet you,
May the wind always be at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and the rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the plam of his hand.”
I pulled my body off the railing.