Purvis

oldmainer

In the distance he heard a faint sound.  A ringing sound.  After a brief pause, he heard it again, only louder this time.  Slowly he awoke and realized that he must have fallen asleep in his chair.  Not unusual.  He did that a lot anymore.

Again, a ringing sound.  He realized it was the doorbell.  Someone was at the door.

“Who the hell could that be” he grumbled.  “I ain’t expecting no one.  Maybe they will go away”.

He sat for a moment listening to the silence.  Then it rang again.

“Damnit” he said as he struggled to get out of his chair.  His arthritis didn’t help, and it took a while to get everything moving.  Slowly, leaning on his cane, he made his way to the door as the bell rang again.

“I hear you.  I hear you” he called.  “Stop ringing the damn bell.”

When he reached…

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About oldmainer

I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at poormanspoet.wordpress.com to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
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