‘Do you think we could picnic here, below this bridge?’
‘Looks good to me, though the idea of stopping near a bridge as old as this one takes me back to the stories of my childhood about trolls who would want payment to cross the bridge?’
‘But we aren’t going to cross the bridge we are stopping below the bridge on this patch of grass not hurting anyone.’
Seemed a fair idea to me so we set out the picnic stuff.
After a while she said, ‘You know that troll stuff you were talking about before?’
‘ There’s this weird guy standing over there with a large name badge that’s says Al, the friendly troll.’
‘What?’ I exclaimed!
‘It’s ok folks,’ said Al the friendly troll, ‘Just making sure you are both ok and enjoying the sun next to my bridge. It’s the twenty-first century you know and we trolls are all friendly. Here shake my hand and be on your way, when you are ready.’
‘Could you believe that?’
‘What a quaint custom.’
We laughed about it but stopped as we watched Al disappear into the brickwork of the bridge.