"The bells of St. Brigit's are calling tonight."
and were told to add 100 words to it for a total of 108 words.
Studio 30+ chose to reuse a phrase from a fellow blogger's entry last week:
"hung in tatters above her"
I give you a scene that kinda just popped into my head. I know, the moroseness of my writing lately is a bit odd, but I'm just going along for the ride at the moment. As always, concrit is most welcome.
“The bells of St. Brigit’s are calling tonight.”
“They must have gotten yesterday’s report.”
They both stood there listening to the sonorous tolling of
the bells. One unending string of beats,
each beat a life that was lost. He went
inside to finish packing. She paused on
the balcony. The clouds hung in tatters
above her like the rotted remnants of shrouds hiding nothing but brittle bones
of long dead souls.
She shook her head.
The daily ritual of ringing the bells for each Great Plague death was
bringing her down. She pondered how much
longer the ringers would be there to ring.
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