Knell: The sound of a bell rung slowly to announce a death
I swept the leaves from the ground as the cold morning mimicked night. The dawn of the day grew tiresome on me as did the lull of the area around me. Not a single soul for as far as I can see, and the only thing to keep me company were the gray slabs strutting from the ground, seeming to want to reach the sky, but unable to escape its entrapment. I wondered how long it would have taken me to be among them, to be buried in these god forsaken grounds. I hoped to no god that this area would remain solemn and unsullied such that my task would only be to sweep away these leaves. However, every once in a while I see vandals. And every once in a while I hear that dastardly bell ring in the distance. It beckons to misanthropic ghouls and demons to take away those that disturb the peace of the dead. Or so, that’s what they say. It’s an urban legend, something to keep my job, and whoever else who so chooses this job, much, much easier. Sometimes I wonder if the quiet whistle of the wind really is just my own sanity slipping from me. And sometimes when I hear the bell, I wonder if it is my time to rest, or if it is just simply a blissful lie.