Deb and Sabrina each wrote.
The bridge looked like wooden pallets stripped apart and placed haphazardly back together. Parts of the bridge were five boards wide, others seven. The boards on the left lay covered in dried salt, remnants of the ocean water that flew into the small lagoon on the wings of the wind before the fingers of the sun drank it up.
Today the boards were dry, the water they bridged perfectly mirroring the tall trees surrounding the dilapidated shack on the tiny island. There were almost more trees than planks making up the shack. All the trees wore battle scars from the changing season except two dwarf evergreens standing as sentinels at the end of the bridge. I would have to walk through the evergreens to reach the door. They would sense my reason for coming and warn the Hakham.
I stepped onto the bridge and the board beneath me shuddered and bent. I stepped back. Then I stepped on the outside board; it held firm. I walked along the single board until reaching the next section. There I tested the board before me, but it wobbled. I tested all the boards I could reach. The skinniest of them seemed the most stable, so I shimmied along it, careful not to touch the boards on either side lest they fall into the water and splash me. The same thing happened at each of the eight remaining sections of board except the last. On the last all the boards seemed firm. I hesitated.
It was certain to be a trap. One slip into the water, one drop on my toe, and it would be over. Although what that meant I didn't know. I only knew I shouldn't find out.
There were five boards in this section; it would take me six steps to get across. If I ran, one step on each board, I could make it across even if the boards fell away. Except the last step. I would have to jump.
I moved back down to the midpoint of my current section. Then I ran. The boards fell away from me as soon as my feet touched them. I ran at a diagonal, my feet crossing over each other in haste. As the last board gave way, I jumped.
I landed on the leaf covered slope and slipped. My feet flew out from under me and I tried to yank them back into my body. I was still too close to the water. Suddenly wooden planks appeared beneath me, keeping my legs and feet out of the water. I stood and quickly moved onto the land. The dock disappeared. I stepped forward, my foot touching wood, and the dock reappeared.
With a sigh of relief, I turned to the A-framed shack. It was much nicer than it had appeared from the other end of the bridge. Double white-framed windows on the ground floor gazed over the bridge. A small balcony ran around the house, like the brim of a hat. Above the balcony, three triangular windows marked another floor, their angles matching the slant of the witch hat-like roof. Framed by the triangular windows, and well out of reach from the ground, was a door.
The only door. The only way in.