One hundred days, and tomorrow would be one hundred one. The thought depressed Anthony, who gave a long sigh at the end of his silent calculations.
“Sh!” came a staccato reproof.
The hiss had not been uncalled for, but Anthony allowed himself a long, scowling stare at his companion. One hundred days, and the very thought of the one hundred first was too much to bear. Something had to break—but not the silence.
A bell rang somewhere far off in the city, and the hollow knell seemed the voice of death. Their eyes met and shared the same sorrow.
Tale Told 