The Bell That Couldn’t Ring (192 Words)
One day they would have to ring the bell. It was inevitable. With the increasing attacks from the cave crawlers, it was only a matter of time before barbed and electric wire was breached and the town would be overcome. So there Peter stood in the hopes of saving at least a few of the townsfolk, ready to ring the bell.
A light voice made him turn. “You know they won’t come in the daytime. You can relax, silly.”
Peter managed a crooked smile. He always liked it when Cecily stood with him. “I can’t go,” he said, “or the mayor will skin me alive.”
The girl waved her hand dismissively. “Papa’s taking his siesta,” she said. “And it’s hot. You go get something to drink and I’ll stand by the bell. It’ll take a few minutes for you to refresh yourself.”
As Peter walked away, he felt his back tingling. He realized he was waiting for the bell to ring. It would happen—of course it would happen. But looking back and seeing Cecily standing there, looking out towards the caves, he was determined they would get out of this alive.
Written in response to Sunday Photo Fiction’s photo prompt. Check it out!
Image (c) C.E. Ayr
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More must surely be coming.
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