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M. Cason ENG 112 October 8, 2013 The Note A woman is sitting in her old, shuttered house. She knows she’s alone in the world because every other living thing is dead. The door bell rings. With a puzzled look on her face, the elderly lady began to wonder if she was Just hearing things. As far as she knew, she is the only one left on Earth. There were several enormous nuclear plant explosions that had wiped out and killed everything in its path months ago. For some odd reason it decided to skip over one particular old raggedy shuttered house in the middle of nowhere. Lucky for the old lady it Just so happened to be her home hat was spared.

In disbelief of what she thought she had heard she ignores it and continues knitting in her rocking chair. Since the major nuclear explosion incident, the old woman had become lonely and turned to knitting as a way to pass time and get her through her days. She had no pets, no family left and no friends. Still she would often think of her late beloved husband John who had died due to the nuclear exposure when he went to town that awful morning four long months ago. “Ding- dong” the doorbell rings again. Now for certain she’s not Just hearing things anymore, the old lady slowly creeps out of her old wooden rocking chair.

She then thought to grab her metal cane next to her rocker. She was hopeful, but also hesitant in wanting to find out what or who had rung her door bell. She began to slowly creep towards the door trying to be as quiet as she could, not wanting to scare off what might have caused the door bell to ring. Finally she reached the worn out wooden front door which she proceeded to open. With a look of disappointment and disgust on her face there was absolutely nothing there. The old lady looked to the right, followed up by looking to her left and could not see anything out of the normal.

Nothing different or odd stood out to her. She decided it Just must have been a coincidence so she closed the door and retreated back to her rocking chair. She began to continue working on her scarf she had begun knitting as winter time was once again quickly approaching. By this time now it was now October one of her favorite months because it was John and hers anniversary. “Ding-dong” the doorbell had rang yet again now. Once again the old lady got out of her rocker and proceeded to the front door once more. She opened it up and once again there was nothing there. She began to wonder what on

Earth could be causing this all to happen. She remembered a point in time where there was a short in the wires causing this very thing to happen. That couldn’t be the case this time though she thought because her late husband had already fixed it. All had gotten quiet once more so she decided it was time to make her some dinner. After dinner she decided to read a book by the fireplace in the living room. She got about halfway threw it when once more “ding-dong” it was the sound of the doorbell again. The old lady Jumped out of fear and being caught off guard by the sound again this time.

She grabbed John’s old double barreled shotgun which he always Kept Dy tne Tlreplace Tor sate Keeping. sne tnen snou ea nere ” sne tnen followed that up by saying, “What do you want from me, quit playing games already it’s not funny! ” She peeked out of the window and once again saw nothing there. By this point in time the lady began to wonder if she was going crazy. She began to cry because she knew there was nobody for her to talk. Four long months of solitary confinement living alone will take its toll on anybody. The woman stared at an old photograph she had of John and her wedding and began to weep once more.

She aid “John, please give me a sign show me something to let me know I’m not crazy. ” No sooner had she said those very words, a huge whirling wind smacked the side of the old cabin house. The front door blew open and the winds started to blow paper and debris everywhere. The old woman Just sat and watched it all unfold in front of her eyes. The wind finally stopped and as papers were settling down one particular old folded up note landed gently by her side as if it were a sign. Something was different about this particular paper it had red ink. That was strange because the only person she knew to ever write in red ink was her husband John.

She slowly unfolded the paper and saw it was indeed a note from her late husband. It read the following. My dearest Jane, remember the day I said I went to the hardware store in town to get parts to fix the doorbell. I didn’t exactly tell you the truth. It has been bugging me and I wanted to write you this note to finally tell you the truth. I went to the local bar and had a few too many drinks and simply forgot about it. I will get to it next week I promise or better yet I say we Just get rid of the doorbell all together. I’ll leave that decision up to you though sweetheart. Love always, John.

Jane began to mile because she knew John well enough to know he couldn’t tell a lie. He’d feel guilty and the truth would always come out eventually. She felt at ease after reading this letter and she looked up to the roof as she was looking at the sky and said thank you John. She got up from her chair and took John’s shotgun out the front door. Jane loaded an old shotgun shell into it and aimed and fired it at the doorbell and said, “That’s for you my love, you got your wish no more stupid doorbell. ” She walked back inside and closed the door behind her. That was the last time that old doorbell ever rang again.

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