Yesterday the clapper broke on that old bell you bought me on our honeymoon. Perhaps the rain had rusted the chain through, or I had been too vigorous with ringing the children back from the beach for supper.
You aren’t here to fix it; you aren’t here to fix anything anymore. Today we hefted the bell into Flora’s old pram and wheeled it down to the sea, like a big brassy baby. We dug a hole, laid the bell to rest under the sand and toasted it with flat lemonade. When I went back tonight I was sure I heard it ringing.
For those who don’t know how Friday Fictioneers works, this picture (this time supplied by David Stewart) is our inspiration for our weekly online writing group hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Click here to read other people’s amazing stories or to join in. And please comment below with any suggestions for improvement on mine.