The Resolute Chime

Climbing from the bicycle frame toward the elevated handlebar, I encountered a dome-shaped brass bell. Its knurled striker arm was tilted off-center, jammed against the curved housing. I braced my rear talons firmly into the black rubber grip and hooked my golden foreclaw under the spring-loaded lever. The coil resisted with cold, stiff tension. Applying slow, unyielding downward torque, I forced the lever backward until it slipped past the catch. It snapped forward with a clear, piercing chime that echoed across the pavement. The strike arm seated flush. I held my stance as the bronze ring faded.