Sunday church bells are being rung, the sound echos up and down the street. An image of a slightly demented monk hauling the end of a long rope in the church spire comes to mind. It is, however, not done that way any more. It is now done by some electrically actuated system of mechanical ringers. The idea of the monk is more picturesque.
Meanwhile the six o'clock bells have stopped their noise.
The son is putting his bags together for a weeks camping trip. He is taking a surprising amount of equipment with him, even including a portable computer. Now that he has finished his school well he is taking a break.
He just has to start early. Now there are the single rings outside indicating that it is now a quarter past six.
It is Sunday, breakfast is made, and he has to leave soon.
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