The Victory Bell

I jogged back inside through the screen door before the porch lights clicked off, ready for one final burst of action before parking my sneakers. Right on the polished oak entryway table sat an old chrome call bell next to a ceramic key dish. That silver button on top was practically begging for a high-speed drop! I scrambled up the woven table runner, hit full stride, and slammed both gloved hands straight down onto the plunger. Ding! The bell rang out with a sharp, crystal-clear chime that echoed through the quiet hallway, rattling a stray copper coin right across the timber. Nothing wraps up the night like ringing your own finish line bell!