Thursday, June 17, 2004

It was a dark and stormy - and windy - night. 

The wind raged like a shrieking demon all night.

The house next door has a set of those 'tinking bells' on its back porch, the kind that tinkles gently when a zephyr or a light breeze stirs its stringed bells.

Those bells rang out all goddam night. They rang themselves into my dreams. Now a flying fire engine, bells ringing madly as the truck screamed across the sky; now a manic altar boy ringing the communion bells incessantly and laughing like a lunatic from the choir loft; now a herd of belled cows stampeding across some field; now a nineteenth century schoolmaster ringing a bell at the doorway of a tumbledown schoolhouse, leering horribly at the poor children and then locking them in, never to let them out again; and now the bells in the belfry of some old town hall in a lonely isolated village, ringing of their own accord and warning of impending doom.

When I woke up, the wind was stilled, the bells were silent.

Then next door's parrot made its daily greeting to the dawn.




I love that parrot. I'd prefer to hear its rasping call any day instead of those hellish jangling bells.

is it time for a nap yet? i think so

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