bells and whistles k.th & j.jk

1

The Grass, The wet grass. As I walk my feet slowly seep into the sodden ground. Water flooding the semipermeable membrane that is my converse high tops. Every step I take a squelch is heard from the drowning blades of grass.

The roadway beside me remains empty. The cracked, faded cement looked sad with every sunken pothole. It screamed "heal me! I am weak!" Beside these potholes lie yellow lines that trace down this runway of inevitability for what seems like forever, reaching as far as the horizon.

The air has a crisp cold pinch to it. Despite the summer haze of joy and warmth, the atmosphere around me has turned cold. Goosebumps prickled my skin as a breeze welcomes the hair on my arms to lift.

For miles, all I can see is the stars and the moon. Stars and moon. Moon and stars. The only constants I have. Although, tonight they seem to pity me. Their light is looking down at me, rather than illuminating what lies in front.

My thoughts are interrupted as yet another variable enters my vision. A light, unlike that of the celestial elements in the sky. Yellow, flickering. I turn my head slightly to observe the opposite side of the street. There sits an old convenience shop. Slowly, and hesitantly I approach this oddity. This shop has no name, no sign. The only context That is given is the small notice on the door saying "sandwiches, snacks, & more!" The building stands out amongst the barren landscape. It's light green paint peeling in every which way. The asphalt shingles hanging on their last nail. so frail that if a wind were to blow with the slightest bit of might, they would tumble to the ground. There was a single window, but it is so small that only an "open" sign swings softly in the front of it. Next, to this building, there are three parking spaces, all determined by a dirtied, white paint messily splayed in uneven lines.

This building intrigues me. Making my decision in a split second I slowly push open the heavy screen door. A bell above my head jingles. I look at it in awe, this bell, for some reason, seems to carry so much hope, so much light. This bell, surface as silver as the crescent hanging in the sky. This bell, sound as light and frail as a fairy's laugh. Who knew a silver ornament could amaze me to such an extent, but it is not what made me stay. There was something that carried far more optimism, cheerfulness, joy, and bliss.

"Are you going to purchase anything?"

No, it was never the bell. He is why I came back.

"Yes. May I have this bell?"