A Troubled Bridge over Frigid Waters: an extended metaphor
Note how two ideas are interwoven throughout the piece: the lie and the burning bridge
Their friendship was like an old oak bridge, built sturdy and durable to withstand the storms. Then one day, a single spark, one careless cigarette butt of a fib, fell innocently on an unsuspecting wooden beam. Casually dismissed, it was left to smolder as the offending party walked on. It went unnoticed for a while, until tiny wisps of telltale smoke started to appear. The smoldering lie was now burning, the flames licking at the timber of their friendship that was growing drier with every unshared feeling, every small disagreement. The flames slowly spread, leaving scorch marks on the previously unblemished bridge. Before long, the bridge was engulfed in flame, the fire fueled by the dueling girls and their words. By this time, Lia had decided that it was too late to go back; she couldn't admit now that it was she who had sparked the blaze. As the thick smoke of charred memories rose into the air, the ashes of their secrets rained down on the girls, now standing on opposite banks of the river. They stood silently, unable to do anything but watch as pieces of their beloved bridge fell, still flaming, into the river below. And when every last flame had been extinguished by the frigid waters, the girls, no longer connected by the old oak bridge, turned and walked away.
Kierstan Dougans
