Writing Class Assignment - A Knock On The Door

Every morning Mr Bumble heard the same noise at four in the morning.

Knock, Knock.

Two low thuds that echoed along the deteriorating floorboards, awakening him from slumber. And so, Mr Bumble would rise from the comfort of his bed and search for the source of the noise, though he never found it. In a terrible grump, he would open his retirement flat door to find nothing behind it, not even some pesky kid snickering down the hallway. It was foolish of him to fall for the same mysterious trick every day, but he was determined that eventually, he would find the culprit of his morning interruptions.

His main suspicion led to his neighbour, Mrs Winslow. The woman had cats. Lots of cats, and it wasn't hard to imagine one of the malicious pests acquiring a way to create the incessant noise. Scornfully, he scowled at the woman as the two of them collided in the halls.

"Lovely day, isn't it Mr Bumble? Have you been out somewhere fun? I've just been for a tea in the old café with my daughter and grandkids," She wilfully wittered.

Mr Bumble simply nodded as he fumbled for his keys, unwilling to get into conversation with the woman. He refused to detail his day to her, partly due to the bitterness he felt when hearing about her wonderful life. Unlike her, he had no family to fill his days and any café visit he took was a sad and lonely one.

"Oh, that reminds me," She said, "Someone dropped something at my door for you the other day. I'll just go get it."

Mr Bumble's curiosity piqued. Could this be the source of the knocking? He eagerly waited for Mrs Winslow to return from her fur infested flat, careful not to approach the door in case one of the beasts targeted him. When she returned, a small colourful sheet of paper was handed to him.

"It's about the summer fair. Everyone got one," She gleamed, "I hope you decide to participate this time."

"I won't." He groaned as he crumpled the paper in front of her."

* * *

The next morning at four, the familiar sound startled him.

Knock, Knock.

In a temper, he charged from his bed and bellowed at the door.

"That blasted noise! Whoever's making it will–"

His complaints halted as a clanking sound reverberated. Metal and wood split. A sudden force flung him out of his door and his dark room suddenly became far dustier. He stared in disbelief as Mrs Winslow ran from her room towards him.

"Heavens! What happened?" She asked though Mr Bumble couldn't give her a response.

He stared at the space that once occupied his bed, taking in the rubble that had collapsed on top of it. Though he could have complained about the unfortunate circumstances that had befallen him, his thoughts turned to the knocking sound and how that one irritating event might have just saved his life.