Begin the interview. Start somewhere oblique and work inward.

I saw it. I didn't need some damn report to tell me the metal was rotting away. It was flaking off in chunks like dead skin. I was standing there for twenty minutes while the wind was cutting through my jacket. People love to hide behind paperwork because they don't want to actually show up and look at things. It's a disaster waiting to happen, and everyone is just pretending it's fine.

I wasn't standing there with a stopwatch counting debris, Vic. Maybe three, maybe four. It didn't matter. The sound of those things hitting the pavement was enough to know the whole structure was shot. I had to get back inside before the traffic started backing up again. I don't have all day to play inspector on a structural failure. The whole situation is pathetic. We're just waiting for the inevitable at this point.

I was on the south side. The view is better from there, you can actually see the main girders buckling under. The north side is just shadows and noise. My hands were freezing through the railing anyway. I wonder why I even dragged myself out of the office. It's a waste of time looking at a collapse in progress when the city is too lazy to do anything about it.

The third and fourth spans near the main pier. They were bowing inward like the whole thing was tired of holding the weight of all that rust. You didn't need a degree to see the steel was screaming under the tension. The rivets were popping every time a heavy truck went over. I told you, it's pathetic, but don't expect me to give you a blueprint. I'm not your damn engineer.

I wasn't counting, for fuck sake. It sounded like a machine gun every few minutes whenever a bus hit the seam. It was a sharp, metallic crack that echoed off the water. It was enough to make your teeth ache. If you need a tally of every failing bolt while the bridge is literally vibrating under your feet, you're losing your mind. It's a miracle the whole thing hasn't slid into the river already.

Of course it did. People in this city are too oblivious to notice the world falling apart. The driver probably didn't even look out the damn mirror, just staring at his phone or whatever. The bus sat there idling for a minute while the whole deck rumbled, and then it just pulled away like nothing happened. It's suicidal. Everyone is packed like idiots, driving right over a death trap while the rest of us just watch it rot.

I don't know. I wasn't looking at the side of the bus. It was one of those battered city buses, covered in grime and graffiti. I was more concerned with the bridge giving way under us than memorizing a route number. If you want the number, call the transit authority and let them get you off their ears. I've got better things to do than track public schedules for your useless questions.

It was some mess of faded red and jagged black, mostly over the windows. Look like someone had tagged it in a hurry about years ago. I don't give a damn about the color palette or the artist, Vic. The whole vehicle is a rolling heap, just like the bridge. You're obsessed with the paint job while the structure is literally disintegrating. It's pathetic and a waste of my time.

It was peeling. Everything in that city is flaking off somewhere. The red was dull and chalky, looking like it hadn't seen a coat of paint since the nineties. Why the hell do you care about the state of some graffiti when the world is coming apart at the seams? It's like asking the color of the curtains while the house is on fire. It's exhausting talking to you.