20170626

Day 1,023

Ever since they got the old church bell repaired, folks ain't been quite the same. It's been almost three hundred and fifty years since it last rang and they only got 'round to repairing it last month. They were using some old drawing as their basis, pulling in inspiration from the older churches of the region and not straying an inch past the county borders.

We should have suspected something from the suddenness of it all but we all got so swept up in the thrill of finally hearing our dear old church sing like it hadn't in over three hundred years that none of us cared for explanations. I can't even name one person who wasn't involved in some part of resurrecting the bell somewhere along the line- even I did my fair share by helping weave the rope that would cast out its call.

Now when it strikes noon every Sunday we are all helpless against it, all pulled to the church to stand among the graves and in the fields just swaying with the wind. None of us will talk about it afterwards, all rushing away fast as we can to our homes, to our doors we swore we locked and to the chains we broke through in our haste to get to the church once more.

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