Church Bells Are Ringing

Rasp, rasp.

Church bells started ringing.

It was a bright, sunny Sunday morning. Light was struggling to get into his apartment on the sixth floor though.

Rasp, rasp.

The sound intermixed with the joyful bells singing the praises of the Lord.

The curtains were drawn, the blinds reaching out to touch each other with the longing of long lost lovers who had just found one another.

Lines of light were drawn across the wooden floor. They illuminated an uncared for floor, belied the owner’s otherwise clean appearance. Marks all over the wood, indentations within. Spiraling shavings were lit up by these lines.

You could smell a decay in the air, like fruit that had been left out for too long, the atmosphere was thick and cloying, like specks of steel were suspended within the air.

Silence was his only companion in this one bedroom, one bathroom apartment across from the church. Except for Sundays.

Those bells made a visit weekly, on schedule, he had tried to block them out as he had done with the light. But they had persisted. And he had gotten used to them. Almost started to enjoy them. Almost.

Rasp, rasp.

He sliced through the air as if he were practicing. The steel glinted as it passed through the wisps of light. Blinking, with a cold steely smile. It knew its final purpose.

He put the knife back to the sharpener.

Rasp, rasp.

Giving his burning forearm a break, did it really even matter, he stood up and stretched. All of this seemed pointless to him. When he realized his impending death. When he would realize his death. None of it would matter.

He walked over to the windows. Moved the blinds just an inch. Throngs of people walking into the huge church. It was old, bricks forming most of it, green tiles for the roof, dirty windows. Pretty standard. He looked down at them, wondering if any of them cared. He knew the answer. He walked back to his chair by the kitchen counter and his glance fell upon the bills piling up, the ones that had been sliding under his door for months. There was a huge stack now. He smiled grimly. Let them come. It didn’t matter.

He seated himself with a catlike motion that was easy for his tall, lithe body.

Rasp, rasp, rasp.

He had often wondering how it would end. His eyes fell to the fire escape next to his window and just as quickly flickered away. It just didn’t feel right.

The voices inside his head were growing and in their echoes, silencing him. The silence outside was deafening. It would have helped if the ac had stuttered like it used to. But it too had passed away a few months ago. As all things do. As all things should.

Rasp, rasp.

He had often wondered.

His hand didn’t shake.

The slice was silent.

The only sound was the knife scattering through the floor, now shining crimson.