Open Letter from a Crumbling Flyover to the City

Dear Commuters,

You have been flying high with me, everyday and every night. When I first came into being, you were dumbstruck with awe. Then you soared with me, crossing over to the most inaccessible parts of the city with ease.

Many decades have passed. I am tired of bearing your weight. Your vehicles are getting bigger by the day, growing both in size and in number. I have borne many accidents here. Many deaths. You zoomed over me, overcome by the thrill of speed.

But that was all in the past. Today I am in the last stage of my life. Years of accommodating you has taken its toll on me.

And now you have turned a blind eye towards me. I'm in complete disarray and I need repair. Numerous articles are written on me. I am now said to be a dangerous, crumbling flyover. We may not even have to wait for an earthquake, a blizzard or a cyclone and I will come crashing down on you and your neighbourhood establishments.

I guess then we'll have a real jam, won't we now?

Barely Standing,
The Crumbling Flyover.