Gephyrophobia Anxiety on the Bridge, and The Last Goodbye to the Ocean

“Would you mind slowing down a bit?”

The woman asked me in almost a begging voice.

I moved to the right lane and slowed down to around 5 miles under the speed limit.

I smiled at passengers flying by on my left.

“There it is. My adversary.”

Her right hand extended into the front seat with her index finger pointing at the four-mile bridge on the horizon.

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