Owl Creek Bridge: A Short Story

Standing on Owl Creek Bridge dressed in green head to toe. My riffle seemed to suddenly gain weight, was it just me? Maybe because I knew what was happening was wrong. Poor guy didn’t even know what was coming his way. All planned, beginning to end, just because of his passion toward the union he easily got set up. A cold gust of wind blew across my face causing the rigid noose to sway furiously in the water; even nature knew what we were doing was wrong. What was the point just to embed fear into people that the union was above all else, all for the cost of an innocent life?
Nobody even bothered to ask what he was doing or why had he come here. Duty was duty and when on duty personal opinions don’t matter. Standing calm, not letting out a peep, I stand on the Owl Creek Bridge trying to remind myself that duty is duty.
Everyone knew each other, it was as if the entire neighbourhood was your friend. We didn’t have much industrialization here around here even though many have moved to the city to work. People are this transition the “industrialization revolution” because many farmers are losing work and heading over to the city to find new work in factories. However, my wife and I stayed life was a bit hard here but there wasn’t a way we couldn’t leave our home. It’s where we grew up in. Walking through the fields was the best feeling. With the clean air gusting through my short freshly cut hair and the anxiety to go home and tell my wife the good news was killing me. Confused on my wife’s reaction. My wife reads the paper with tears in her eyes in one quick motion she took the paper and teared it to shreds. She held a long gaze at me and walked out. Standing all alone in the room everything silent. Had I pushed it too far? Was she mad at me forever? I pray that such an event doesn’t occur. I wouldn’t be able to stand even looking at my wife with tears in her eyes. I just hope that she is as please with this news as I