The man in the beige trench coat stood in front of the looming tower, as all of London shivered in the cold and dark rain. The clock was almost like a face, warning him of the danger inside the high rise, every chime or bell an echo of the cautioning. He sat on a park bench not too far from the gates to the national landmark and looked at his watch.
2:50.
His appointment was at 3:00. As the man looked up , he could see his reflection in a window on the other side of the road. He was 53 years young. The sadness was even more apparent than the wrinkles.
Divorce a few years ago.
Lost custody.
Lost his job too.
No friends, no purpose. The bells and their incessant ringing were the cause. The never ending cacophony had driven him to the brink of insanity. Many think contrary; that he’s already fallen off the cliff.
He adjusted the noise-cancelling headphones under his hat and looked at his watch once more.
It was time.
