The mist had silently descended down the mountain onto the valley. The mysterious rickety bridge hanging over the torrid stream seemed to lead to nowhere. I stood thinking for a moment. I had no option left. So I decided to take the bridge.
The bridge creaked under my weight as I walked cautiously across the bridge. Looking down, I couldn't see my feet. There was only fog all around. It felt as if I was floating in the air.
Nothing else seemed to exist except me. Even the gurgling of the torrent had died down. Neither did I know how high I was nor did I know where I was headed. I groped around in the mist for the railing but it seemed to have disappeared.
At last I was finally able to reach the other bank.
A chill ran down my spine as I found myself standing alone staring at a solitary cottage stooping over the stream, the water wheel at one side beating the darkness.
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