It was the day the bluebells rang that the world fell silent.

    Sounds rang all about, harsh and unruly, and filled with infinite sadness, the sound of a world ending. The end of a world collapsing.

    Other bells tolled, dim and dark. There was running, even crying out, and then laying down, as if to sleep. The trees, they too, tolled and lolled and let their branches shrink toward the ground.

    And the flowers all shook their heads and withered.

    Then the bluebells rang, and the world fell silent. It went dark. And then it dawned.

    For that is what worlds do.

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