Even when the lad had everything that he wanted, he had heard about the bridges.
A river bisected his small city in Northern Maine. Two bridges spanned the river, one at the north end and one at the south end. Slowly, over the past decade, homeless wretches had begun to live under the bridges. Little by little, make-shift tent cities had grown under each bridge, and it was common to see small fires at night, where food was being cooked and frigid fingers were warmed. Every so often, at the