A 150-word story based on this prompt: “write about an old bridge”.

Title: Monologue of an Old Bridge

Welcome, traveler. I would give you my name, but I have so many of them. I am sure the name my creators gave to me would have no meaning for you. After all, they have been gone for millennia now. I witnessed the battle that was to be the beginning of their end. Their conquerors gave me a new name, but soon they disappeared into history also. Though theirs was a self-inflicted wound. Once again, my new masters gave me a new name. At least this time the name had more resemblance to the old one. And once again, my masters disappeared, only to be replaced by a new one. A new name. Also, a new look. When I was first created, I was wood. At some point, I became stone, then iron, then steel, and finally my current form: solid light. So do not be afraid, traveler. Walk on.