In the darkness under the watchtower of the bridge lies a mysterious archway.  A darkness lurks inside that would instill fear into the hearts of most people.  An old wooden door hangs from broken hinges on one side of the doorway.  The wood itself is old and rotting away.  Pieces are missing, creating holes in the frame that allow light inward.  The lighting is shallow and only reaches a few inches inward.  A sickening, musty smell arises on hot, humid days.  The floor is damp due to the moisture drawn from the river.

     Inside, the floor is cluttered.  Pieces of old, woolen fabrics are used for bedding and are placed sporadically along the walls.  Small, personal belongings lay near most of the beds, some of which are still occupied.  The darkness is constant throughout the day, which provides a good resting area for weary travelers.  Some of the inhabitants are merely passing through; however, some are permanent residents, too poor to make it elsewhere.  Here, at the bridge, they offer services to travelers in hope to earn a small wage.  They may aid in the care of animals, polish boots, or even wash clothes in the cool water of the river.  Yet, at night, they return to the dark, coolness of the damp ground within the archway.

     Many are content with a good night of sleep and a roof over their head.  A few have no choice and reside in the archway only until they can find something better.  Above the archway, on top of the bridge, a man lives in the watchtower.  He is considerate of the inhabitants below him and helps when he can, sparing food and occasionally clothing.

     Living with this man is a white cat that visits the archway regularly in search of mice and rats.  He is a welcomed sight among the people, especially for the two children who live below.  They stay in a far corner of the room with their mother.  Their father was sent off to war with little to no hope of returning.  They had lost their house to a fire and had no choice but to seek shelter wherever they could find it.  By day the children play on the hills near the bridge searching for mushrooms, berries, and wildflowers.  Their mother helps the laundry maids with their duties and when time allows it she schools her children.  Their lives are simple but pleasant.

    All the persons living under the bridge within the archway have their own tales of how they got there and why they are there.  No one particular person is better or worse off than any other person.  They all share the same fate at this time whether or not they have always been in this situation or are new to this lifestyle.  They work to make the best out of everything they can and are no less persons than anyone else.