It has to be painted, you know. Sea air is bad for girders and rust is bad for safety. The team contracted to do the job consists of three painters, a harness rigger, a foreman and me. I am the negotiator.
Biannually I forego my City suit for overall and hard hat, and visit the bridge. I watch the traffic and marvel at the blissful ignorance with which people can pass over it, never knowing the price they are not asked to pay.
The rigger ties my harness to the safety cable and I inch out into space. Amongst the airy girders it is always a shock to come face to face with the troll.
He grins at me with lopsided teeth and I know his price will be higher than ever. We haggle. He always gets what he asks for. The alternative does not bear repeating.
I wanted to write a troll under a bridge story for the Bubble Bestiary but it just wouldn’t take off. After letting it lie around for two months I decided to see if I could make it a flash story. So here it is ;)