Amy Wood

Amy Wood 2 Amy is the winner of Round 40. A youngster of 29, she lives near Birmingham in the UK with her partner David and their two brilliant children. She has been writing publicly for about two years; prior to that she wrote like mad but hid the stories away with all of her other secrets. In between telling stories, she’s reading them. Her current favorite authors are George RR Martin, Alistair MacLean, Andy McNab, JK Rowling, Diana Gabaldon, and Bernard Cornwell, whose books have just (so we hear) joined in a petition to force Amy to buy another bookshelf because they are simply Too Crowded where they are.

Follow her at her blog


The Wanderer

I was always an inquisitive child. If there was a path beneath my feet, I wondered where it led. Many’s the time I worried my mother, wandering off to ‘just see around the next bend’. If I happened across a stream, I splashed into it, eager to see what lay beneath its surface. Roads held the same fascination for me, where did they go? Being in the car at night, snug and safe in my seat with my parents in the front was like heaven. The signs flew past, each one taking me closer to somewhere and further away from somewhere else, sheer magic.

But best of all, I remember, was bridges. If my wandering feet led me to a bridge I had to step onto it. They were enchanted pathways, yellow brick roads to the unknown. Even if could see exactly what lay before me on the other side or if I’d trodden the same path a hundred times, it was still exciting.

I loved the slight pounding of my heart as I crossed over a raging river. My eyes couldn’t move fast enough to watch the cars if it spanned a busy road. Steep rocky gorges, peaceful mountain streams, they all passed beneath my feet and I felt like I was flying.

Legend says that trolls liked to live beneath bridges. I know that’s not true because I looked, every time. I’d hold on to the guard rails and hang as far over as I dared, making sure nothing unnatural lurked there.

Bridges still hold a peculiar fascination for me. I love nothing more than to stand on one and just stare into the sky. I’m older and supposedly wiser now but I still feel that maybe, if I really try hard, up on a bridge, I can reach the clouds.

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