The Top of the Tower

He leaned out the window and looked down at the tree tops. The yellow light of the setting sun cast dark lengthened shadows across the grassy lawn. The cool autumn wind pulled at his hair. He turned around to face the large bronze bell suspended from the rafters. The gold light from the sun lit up the bronze, creating a creamy texture on its surface. He walked over to it, bent down, and grasped the thick string underneath the bell. He breathed a heavy sigh at the familiar weight in his hands, then looked at the watch on his wrist.

He pulled the string towards him and heard the muffled ringing through the earplugs. Again and again he pulled the string towards until he counted six hits. Then he gently released the string and let it dangle at peace beneath the bell. He walked to the other side and took the narrow stone steps down, taking one last look at the pink and purple gradient forming across the sky.

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