Ring.

He walked to the store, his fist clenched around a wad of wet bills. His head thumped as blood forced its way through his veins as a runner after a marathon. At his side padded along a golden Chihuahua, the preserver of his existence. The man hesitated to enter the store, due to an abnormal fear of the ringing of bells. He had forgotten his ear plugs at home. Deciding that the best route would be to call his uncle for aid in downing his phobia, he reached for the back pocket of his scuffed blue jeans. His hand groped around for quite a while mostly out of habit from when he had had the butt rash until he realized that he had forgotten the flip at home. The man was beginning to get worried. Standing in the middle of the doorway, he considered backing out and going home but he realized that if he couldn’t conquer it now, he may never conquer and always suffer from the painful ringing of the bells. Stabbing his nails into the flesh of his palm and his teeth into his bottom lip, he braced himself for entrance. A light fluttering came to existence, the fluttering of crumpled paper. Realizing that he had dropped his money, the man began to lean over and pick up the bill, then decided not to as he realized that the movement would disturb the bell’s motion sensor and the agony would begin. He watched as his hard earned money fluttered away down the street, twirling topsy turvsy but himself remaining solid in fear of disturbing the bell. He opened his mouth to curse, then had second thoughts as he realized the sound waves could offset the bell. Any movement could mean an eternity of pain… better not to move. And so he stood, staring hard at the bell sensor in an attempt to crack it with his telepathy. A flea buzzed across his vision once, but he paid no attention to it, only staring at the sensor. A Flea!!! He averted his attention to it and cringed worriedly. It buzzed back and forth around the sensor, taunting him with his movements. Back and forth!!! Back and forth!!! He grabbed at it…