I see the bridge, so big and so Beautiful in front of me while snow and gold argue in the distance. Queens of different generations plotting their revenge plotting their revenge in the castles at the end of the road. I sit on a bench in the town square thinking, pondering the next step; I have a child to think about now. That line, that one line blocking my family and friends from safety. Thoughts running franticly through my head racing toward home. Yet in the midst of all this something else is missing, him, my runaway, my “Clyde” now gone, vanished without a trace.