From the porch, he heard the metal wind chimes tinkling on the Shepard’s hook, and the dull clanging of the shell chimes dangling from the back awning, and the baritone bamboos nailed to the lower limb of the elm tree. It was a windy day. The chimes reminded him of his wife, who’d hung them, claiming they were decoration and therapy. He’d thought they were tacky. The beads and baubles and reflective materials flickered under the sun, and the noise was no music to his ears, though his wife believed in their vibrations. He’d thought she was desperate, but now he realized she was right. He went into the garage and got the snippers and cut them down, leaving all three piles where they’d hung. Then, he returned to the porch and sat down again. It was a sunny, pleasant day, late September. The slanting sun cast a cool lemony-golden light; every edge a haunting shadow. The silence, he found, deafening.
DS Levy lives in the Midwest. She has had work published in New World Writing, Bending Genres, Bull Men’s Fiction, Atticus Review, X-R-A-Y Literary Magazine, and others. Her flash chapbook, A Binary Heart, was published by Finishing Line Press.