I heard the story from an old friend. As early as 4 am that morning he was woken up by his boss, who told him that two female co- workers would go to neighbouring county handling some thorny problems. And it was so early and the road was a remarkably dangerous mountain one, called by locals ‘the nose of the death god’ for frequent traffic accidents. The boss asked him to keep their company. So the four, two ladies, my friend, and a driver set out in a taxi.
All the way, there was nothing unusual occurring until they were about to drive through a bridge. About 20 metres away from the bridge, suddenly, the driver stopped the car and stepped down from the vehicle. The other people thought he wanted to have a slash outsider. But minutes passed, the guy showed no sign of getting back into the car, and instead, he lit a cigar, squat on the ground, as if thinking over something puzzling.
Two ladies got very anxious because they were eager to get to destination. And you know, my friend was an experienced traveler and always out for business, and quite knew some taboo about travel, so patience remained within him. And soon, almost 10 minutes passed, the driver didn’t stand up getting inside the car, until he finished his fifth cigar, instantly, he rose, into the vehicle, started the car, drove across the bridge.
“What is the matter?” my friend asked, representing himself and also the two women.
“A terrible scene!” the man said, wiping tiny drops of sweat off his forehead “just before driving onto the bridge, I found ahead, there should have been but one bridge, but two identical bridge looming before me, I mean, every inch identical and you can not tell which is which!”
“What do you mean?” a chill spread up my friend’s spine, the two women stared at the driver, disbelieving.
“I am a Dutchman if I lying to you!” the man replied in fright, stopping the car, looking back in the bridge’s direction, as if monster was chasing our vehicle. For the driver is an honest man, famous through my company for scarcity of words and jokes. All persons in the car were convinced, by the way he described the scene, the women sat in the back seat grew pale, a hush hung over them.
“Then I had to wait, wait for other car taking us out, until a lorry driving from behind us got through via one of the twin bridge, closely following it, I get us out of there.” The man added, “if choosing another bridge, we four should have been…”
A scene came to my friend’s mind, creepy mirroring twin bridges, beneath is hundreds meter-deep ditch, there lay four bloody dead person and a car still smoking.
Sent in by Yumao Wu, Copyright 2011