Two pieces of a city

Here I am,right in the middle of the city jungle.Like a stampede made of humans,each one with his own,unique tactic to push through the crowd.Some are swinging with their briefcases and cellphones,trying to maintain balance,worrying about the sweat stains which can ruin their chances of passing the job interview,on which they are desperate to make it on time.Others run a marathon,trying to maintain their tempo.Children are always dragged, by their parents,who can’t afford to be late for their meetings,or dragged behind by their grandparents,who can’t catch up with their speed.Surrounded by huge buildings,filled with smoke,people with different religion and gender,ladies with too much make up and teenagers still wearing the high heels from last night- they all pray to their own God:Oh,please,let me make it on time!
The river runs next to them,dividing the city in half.The faster lane,on which no one can switch.
On the other side of the river,there is a parallel universe.Houses made of stone,tea shops filled with old couples,drinking their tea on the same table where they first met.You can smell the tradition through the national meals served on wooden tables with handmade mats.You can hear the children’s laughter,even though their clothes are muddy and their knees are bleeding.The sun is brighter on this side,it shines from both sides:from the sky,and from the eyes of the people
These two dimensions are connected by a stone bridge.Nobody knows how old it is or who build it.Some claim that it separates two worlds,two ways of living in the city.Others say that he connects them.That when people finish running, they decide to settle down on the other side.On the other hand,people from the other side,sometimes have to run for their happiness too,so they also switch sides now and then.As I was standing on the bridge,I couldn’t help wondering,which side do I belong to?Maybe I was just meant to stay on the bridge,so I can write a story about everyone who crosses me...