There was a tinkling of winterbells, and then a ding. |
A door opened and she came out. |
Wow, what was that? |
He smiled a small smile through bloody lips |
and a lacerated cheek, |
raising himself despite bruised ribs, |
and said, (with soft eyes) |
it always makes a beautiful sound, |
when somebody slips and hits the rungs on the way down |
of a ladder. |