By Osric Hayn, Field Correspondent
Drymere is small. So small, in fact, that most maps of the Kingdom forget to include it. But this week, it made headlines as the entire population (42 permanent residents, 3 cows, and a dog with ambitions) gathered in the village green to argue the fate of their only bridge.
Built in the year 622 and last repaired during the reign of Queen Gralia the Absent-Minded, the bridge in question connects the village to the main road—and by extension, the world.
“It’s barely wide enough for a wheelbarrow,” said Farmer Reevin. “And it creaks like it’s composing its own eulogy.”
Some villagers demand replacement. Others insist it be preserved as a historical treasure. The Ministry of Infrastructure has offered plans for a modest widening, but that proposal was rejected by a 23-to-19 vote (the dog abstained).
Leading the preservation effort is Mrs. Thistle Gorin, village matriarch and part-time herbalist. “Bridges connect more than roads,” she declared, “they connect hearts. And this one has been here longer than any of us.”
Countering her is young Hendel Blore, who delivers milk and carries a long-standing grudge against the bridge after falling into the creek for the third time last winter. “What’s worse is that the stream runs under the road just a few yards away. We don’t even need no bridge!” he snarled.
The standoff continues. A compromise involving a second, more modern bridge “adjacent but respectful” is now under review.
As one observer put it, “It’s a small bridge. But it’s our small bridge.”