Every Sunday a photo is used as a prompt for a story of around 200 words. If you want to have a go, go take a look at Sunday Photo Fiction, or if you want to read some of the stories that have been written, then take a look at the LinkUp page.
The bell had been the focal point of the village since before he could remember, and he could remember a lot. The old man smiled as he climbed the 176 steps to the top. He remembered every step; every crack, every chip, and every scratch. He had walked up and down these steps for as long as he could remember, and he could remember a lot. Now the time came to ring the bell again, and this time, he was really looking forward to it. Far too much time had passed since the last peals sounded. He stopped and looked at a step, frowning. There appeared to be a new chip, one he did not remember. He would remember anything new, he could remember a lot.
Arriving at the bell, he looked around to try to find anything out of place. He saw the chains attached to the bell, the woman manacled in it, the wires attached to different devices, and a door slightly open. He remembered closing that, he could remember a lot. He smiled to himself, someone always tried to get involved, and it always ended badly. He remembered it all, and he could remember a lot.
He grabbed the woman’s hand and rang the bell as a gunman levelled his weapon and shot, the bullet finding the head of the old man. The woman breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at the gunman. She remembered his face, she could remember a lot.