I understand those words, but to be fair I hardly ever see them in this order. I used to be black cloud girl, pretty much. Cool! You're welcome, of course...just a small return on your generosity.

No generosity involved, at least not as a primary reason. If I do something, there's a better than average chance it's going to have at least one result that makes me happy.

Generosity is selfless. I ain't selfless. That corner of paradise, if paradise there be, is not where I'll be pitching my tent.

The Sour Chimes of Failure

The telephone is ringing, again. Ding ding ding.

Another friend, another voice from the past. How are you holding up? Are you okay?

Ding ding ding. I'm so sorry - it was ten years ago today, wasn't it?

Ding ding - NO. Stop it. Stop calling me, stop reminding me, did you all think I'd somehow forgot? That I'd pushed it from my mind?

He died. I know that. You all keep reminding me of that.

He died and I wasn't there, I wasn't there, I wasn't there.

Ding ding ding.

Oh, God. Make this stop.

Please make it stop.

Oh, that's deep and echo-ey, and painful.

I almost hesitate to post mine, it's such a little wispy thing to follow true grief. 'Scuse the nonsense, please.

Alyce thought it must be fairies. She'd only heard the tiny tinkling sound while she fed the birds in the dovecote. This time she planned to see them, if it was fairies, and when she heard the tiny bell, she ran swiftly, quietly as she could in that direction. But after a careful search, she found nothing.

Except the door of the dovecote swinging open where she'd forgotten to latch it, and blood and feathers everywhere. The cat finished washing his paws, blinked at her, and gave a shake to settle his fur. The little bell at his throat tinkled.

BWAH!

OK, that made me happy.

Yay!

The wedding bells ring, and I'm suddenly old.

That girl - she's my age. Well, a year older, but not a full year. She's a peer. She's a friend.

She's a wife now.

She's beaming, so beautiful, and he looks so cute. The wonderful couple, with their pink-Beetle-convertible love.

And I'm alone. Listening to the bells, as they ring their goodbyes to my youth, the death knell of my childhood.

Damn, Nova. One of those moments, isn't it?

a chemistry fantasy

Their golden heads are close together. Their voices are low. Not so low I can't hear them, but I'm invisible, so.

"She was almost...but then she said she was scared!"

"Scared! Of what?"

Of pregnancy, of AIDS, of the loss or gain of your love.

I say, "I wouldn't be scared." They turn and look at me, mouths slightly agape, as my puritan image slowly tarnishes in their eyes.

"What?"

"Well, not for just anyone, but for either of you two, I would."

No, I don't. I don't say anything. I stay invisible. The bell rings. They leave the classroom.

Wow. This "Bells" topic has been very inspiring.