The road we take is wet and slippery.
More often we cannot see where we are going even though we walk this way daily for many years.
"Step back" I shout if I feel how you slide off the bridge. It's dark, cold, you cry and the leash around your neck doesn't make it any better.
It takes all my strength to pull what is left of you out of the cold muddy water. You shiver. We hurry home, time for the hot tub.
Mom is mad and my Dad and I grin and hurry inside our rooms. It's wiser not to set a foot in her way until she washes and wraps up the dog in blankets. No matter what she says, we had fun and it was just a stupid accident.
