By Timothy Lantz

Hand in hand they stared across the bridge.

"Are you sure about this?" She whispered.

"As sure as I've ever been about anything in my life," he replied.

"Still, I don't know. Maybe we should just go back."

"I can't do that, not anymore. My path lies down that road."

"And my path... my path lies with you."

He squeezed her hand reassuringly and took the first steps out onto the wooden planks. The old boards creaked and bowed a little under the weight, but it appeared they would support him.

"You don't have to do this," he said to her.

"No, I don't, but I want to do this," she stated firmly. Then, closing her eyes, she also stepped onto the bridge. To her relief, it remained steady.

They began slowly at first, walking carefully into the realm of the unknown. His gentle voice, offering encouragement, helped ease her into a more relaxed gait. Still, she clutched his hand tightly, fearful of letting go.

When they reached the center of the bridge, she stopped and looked back.

"It's still not too late... if you've changed your mind."

She smiled. "No. Let's go." She pulled on his hand and broke into a run.

Sensing the urgency in her decision, he ran with her and the two of them raced across the bridge.

When they reached the other side, they collapsed, exhausted and relieved. It was crazy to be so reckless, and yet, neither of them cared. They had chosen their path.

"It's done," he said.

"Almost," she replied. "There's still one thing left to do."

She stood and walked over to the edge of the bridge. From out of her pocket she pulled a pack of matches.