Bridges are liminal: transitional zones between recognised points of terminus, they are non-places. In Horsingdon, it is said that there are some bridges - almost always sites of local tragedy, or where some monstrous but half-forgotten atrocity was once committed - which on occasion become uncoupled from their original, worldly destinations. Any wayward traveller crossing such a bridge at the moment of its translation between this world and the absolute elsewhere is, therefore, likely to find themselves the permanent and unwelcome inhabitant of a strange and terrifyingly unfamiliar country…
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