This post hasn’t really got anything to do with winter or Christmas, but when I was little, I used to be scared of bridges.
You see, we used to live in Cardiff, and whenever we left Cardiff to visit my Gran who used to live in High Wycombe, which meant we had to go over the bridge, which also went over water (We also went past the pink “Barbie House” but that’s another story).
I was always scared that the bridge would fall down, and we’d land in the water, and die because I had a very active imagination… I still do, to be honest. But you know when you’re sitting in the front of the car and you look at the road, and it looks like you’re driving on a circle or a sphere or something, because the road looks like it’s coming down…? (Or is that just me?) but because it did that, I imagined the road wasn’t long enough for the car and at any second, we’d crash into the water.
We never did, obviously.
But yeah. That is my little story about how I used to be terrified of crossing bridges that went over water when we were in the car.