Le Pont Vieux
An old man walked sedately through the town, his mind elsewhere. A younger man brushed past him, frustrated by the crowd, and broke into a run.
The young man jogged through the tourists and dashed between traffic on the busy one-way system. His shirt clung to his shoulders, dark patches under his arms.
The narrow pavements hindered him and he sidestepped between the tightly-parked cars to run down the centre of the quiet side street.
Emerging from the shadow into the bright sunshine on the old bridge, his eyes dazzled and he stumbled on the cobbles. Regaining his balance with a hand on the low parapet wall, he looked down into the rushing water.
What was it, caught up with the trunk of a tree, pinned to a buttress of the medieval stonework ... ?
