The bell would chime.
Ding.
Ding.
That was the time.
Ding.
Ding.
“High noon,” he’d said.
Ding.
Ding.
“I’ll shoot ya’ dead!”
Ding.
Ding.
And to the street . . .
Ding.
Ding.
The two did meet.
Ding.
. . .
The silent bell
. . .
an anxious hell.
. . .
They would find soon
. . .
it wasn’t noon
. . .
a narrow escape
. . .
thanks to red-tape
. . .
The Unnecessary Blog 