9

He half expected to fall through the flames. In his panic he had forgotten his fear that the bridge might not be real. He fled across the bridge and slowly became aware that the faster he ran the less distance he covered and the hotter the flames were. It occurred to him to slow down. He proceeded to walk. His panic changed. The heat from the fiery bridge lessened. He gained some confidence from the curious fact that the fire seemed to bear his weight.

Then he noticed that the slower he walked through the flames of the bridge, the greater the distance he seemed to cover, and the faster he seemed to move. He was beginning to enjoy these strange little discoveries when he remembered that the flames were supposed to burn him. In that moment, almost as if he had created it with his fear, he felt the unbearable heat from the railings and girders of fire. He felt himself burning. He felt his feet and his back and his hair and his face sizzling in the midst of the red and blue tongues of fire. He turned and started to run back in a new panic when suddenly the dancing yellow flames raced down from his hair and began to consume his flesh.

Howling, he threw himself on the floor of the roaring furnace all around, screaming into his own maddened agony. Burning all over, feeling himself turning cinderous, he jumped back up and was about to leap off the bridge into what he hoped was the perfectly cooling water of the abyss when something changed all about him.

Suddenly, he felt himself flailing and kicking, turning and sinking into the liquid floor of the furnace.

Confused, thrashing about, he found himself beginning to drown.

Halfway across, the bridge had turned into water.