The Bell

THE Bell Why am I in this strange house In this cold room cold even
though the log fire is burning bright throwing cascading shadows onto
the dragons blood painted walls. Downwardly staring at me are portraits
of warriors warriors from the past killers all with cruel twisted faces
I wonder did any of them ever know love Why am I in this room Im hiding
from something but I dont know what or who. Above me the candelieer now
yellowed and brown with age Silence shattered by a constant piercing
ring Almost like a scream sending a jolt to my heart But it is only the
doorbell which is ringing ringing yet still never ending I go to ansrew
the door along a dusty corridor passing old sepia framed photographs of
people long since departed I know not who they are I open the porch
door the bell still ringing piercing my ears and stabbing my heart with
its urgent ringing When I open the door and the piercing ring stops but
there is no one there only the winter frost which smacks my face The
cold night air takes my breath away I look down at the snow on the
ground which is undisturbed never troubled by footprints of whoever or
whatever rang that bell.