“I would hate to be murdered in a lounge chair. You would lose not only your life, but a chance at a nice nap.”
—-Armando Vitalis, From Hell’s Heart I Stab At Thee
I try not to take so many photographs that don’t have people in them. But there aren’t many folks on the Continental Bridge Park on a workday afternoon, even on a preternaturally warm autumn day.
The few people that did walk by as I ate a takeout sweet potato were interesting enough:
A large young man with headphones – he sauntered by and I saw him at a distance once he reached an unoccupied section dancing by himself.
A young couple, very casually dressed, moving around in some sort of elaborate ritual in each open area. I think they were planning a wedding on the bridge – or at least a photo-shoot – and were trying out all the angles.
A couple with two chihuahuas. They passed one way with the dogs on leashes – then returned with the dogs loose. I later saw them chasing the pooches along the Trinity River Levee – they must have seen something interesting.
—-but the bridge is very long and narrow, and the interesting stuff was too far away. So all I did was sit in one of the lounge chairs and read a couple of horrifically gruesome short stories.
For example, in one an astoundingly stupid young man is experimenting with an ethanol-based homemade hair gel when he accidentally ignites his coif with a cigarette. Aflame, he runs into the road in a panic where he is struck by a speeding wrecker. The impact flips him over a rail into the Sabine river, which does serve to extinguish the flames – but before his friends can rescue him a large alligator drags him off by the head.
Things go downhill from there. If you don’t believe me – the story seems to be available online.