Before

     A river coursed through the land, breaking it in two. It gave the land nourishment, but kept all but the most determined on their side of the river. The river flowed for what seemed like forever, joined by other rivers and streams. It joined other rivers, that joined other rivers, that flowed to the sea. Shepherds led their flocks to drink, and men took drinks, too.

     The river was an unmistakable barrier, undefeatable in its glory. Men could use the river, ask it for aid, but the river held sway over them. It could flood its banks, or dry them to uselessness, and man would have to adapt or perish. The river had defeated the land: and would allow no one to cross.

Before

     Men needed to cross the water. Times had changed. To carry goods across its banks, or to move warriors over its surface, the land needed to be brought across the river. Men collected wood, which they cut into planks. Stakes, then posts were driven into the hard ground beyond the river’s banks. Then, planks were laid across. Long posts were driven into the river’s muddy bottom until a bridge had been made. The land had made its way over the river. The great, unconquerable gap had been defeated, and the river could not be the same. For now, man held dominion over the river.

Before

Men passed over the river every day.A great road was created, and soon, the bridge was not large enough, strong enough. The contents of the land were brought out of the ground to be transported over the river to other places. Trade had grown, and so had nations. The bridge was not a temporary defeat, but a permanent one. Land would always cross the river, for man had found need for it.

Before

An emperor had need of this road. Not to move warriors, but to move soldiers. An emperor needed this road, and this bridge to move armies. So he sent his men, this time not with planks and posts, but with stones. The emperor’s men brought stones to the river, and soon tall arches had grown over the river. Each stone was carefully cut, and then placed.

The bridge was no longer a flimsy thing. The river could no longer over flow to hold dominion over the land once more. A stone masterpiece had not only defeated, but now humiliated the great river. Men had died, crushed beneath the giant stones that had been brought here, but man would not leave.

Before

     The emperor died, and a successor was named. Armies marched not over the bridge, but to it. No longer was the bridge a passageway to the farthest lands of the empire, but a last bastion against defeat. Towers and gates were constructed, filled with men. Men died to take, or to hold the artificial land above the river. The river’s blue streams were washed red with blood.

Before

     The emperors faded away, as did their empire. The bridge was left in the hands of petty kings and rulers. Many battles were fought to hold the bridge, by kings of one side, or the other. Each time, the bridge was harmed. But, the men who knew how to fix it were gone, lost with the empires that had trained them. The great stone bridge would have fallen, and the river would hold sway again.

Before

     The people awakened, and the arts that had created the bridge were rediscovered. The bridge was rebuilt. The guard towers became homes, and the bridge was bathed in glory once more.

Before

     Kings gave way to their peoples, and the world changed. But the bridge would hold soldiers again. This time with cannons, muskets, and rifles, armies fought for the bridge. Armies held the bridge, and then lost it.

     Even a great stone masterpiece has weaknesses, and only so much can be done against cannon balls. But in the end, its greatest enemy was time.

Now

     The Guard towers are homes, once more. Although soldiers still visit the bridge, it is safe, for now.

     Women wash their clothing on the river’s smooth, paved bank. And the road is once more used to transport the goods of  the land to markets far away. Shepherds bring their sheep to drink; cowherds bring their cattle. Men who have made the bridge a home argue and swear at those who merely pass over it.

    Part of the bridge is wood, once more. Wood is cheap and easy, a quick replacement for parts lost to cannons. The bridge no longer holds such indomitable sway over the river. The bridge has been weakened, and little care has been placed in its repair.

    Beneath the bridge, the river flows, defeated and ignored.