The bridge was out. We were driving across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel which runs from Chesapeake, Virginia to Cape Charles, Virginia.
The day started with bright sunshine and light air-brushed clouds gently gliding across a blue sky. Our car was packed with drinks for the kids and chips and crackers for snacking. We would have a meal at the rest area about halfway across the bridge.
Excitement bubbled from the kids. “Wow. You mean we really get to drive under the ocean?” they squealed in delight.
“We certainly do,” their dad said.
“Will we get to see sharks and whales?” Jenny asked. She was five years old and loved all of sea life.
Daddy got down to eye level just before we got in the car. “No, baby. We will be driving through a tunnel, just like the Hampton Roads Tunnel, only longer.”
A slight pout appeared on her lips as she thought about this. Then she brightened. “That’s okay. I can still pretend I can see them.”
Derek, her brother of seven years, was more concerned about boats. “How do we know a boat won’t run into the tunnel while we’re driving across?”
I explained how communication worked between the ships and the people that are in charge of safety on the bridge.
We were at the restaurant on the bridge when the unthinkable happened. An earthquake spawned a tidal wave and it was coming right for us.
I screamed as I woke up.
This is a 250 word writing challenge from ChapterBuzz. The challenge was to start with the first sentence; “The bridge was out.”
The Encouragement Corner 
that dream/nightmare would have given me a heart attack.
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Hi. Thank you for visiting my blog and reading the post. My family has been across that bridge and enjoyed the trip, but the question does stick in the back of the mind: what if a ship or barge did hit it, especially the part that’s under water–while you are there?
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I’m claustrophobic, i’d rather try something above water.
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I really can’t swim. Took lessons as a kid but I’m so uncoordinated I can’t kick my feet and move my arms at the same time, and trying to figure out when to turn my head to breathe on top of that? Forget it. Lol. I can float on my back for about three minutes. Then my feet start to sink and I start to panic. But I love the water, and the mountains, and the rivers, and the sky, yada, yada, yada.
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