Thomas Moran Monterey Coast painting

Thomas Moran Monterey Coast paintingThomas Moran Grand Canyon paintingThomas Moran Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone painting
Listening, he knew that he was hearing not just his heart, but also the knock-hoofed canter of Death’s horse approaching.“Bells,” he Ethan’s need to have the bells, if not the reason for it. He plucked a small pair of scissors from a kit, and swaying with the movement of the vehicle, he clipped the knot that secured the nearest cluster to the garland of tinsel.Given the string of bells, Ethan clutched them in his left hand with a grip both tender and ferocious.He was exhausted, but he dared not close his eyes again, for he feared that repeated, as throughout his mind the doors to a thousand fears flew open.The ambulance began to move, and as it rolled, the siren found its shrill voice.Ethan couldn’t hear the bells above the banshee wail, but he could see the nearest three trembling on their string. Trembling.He raised his left hand toward the dangling cluster but couldn’t reach that far. His hand grasped at empty air.This terrible intensity of fear brought with it a clouding confusion, and perhaps he was utterly delirious; nevertheless, the bells seemed to be more than mere decorations, seemed mystical in their shiny smoothness, in their glimmering curves, the embodiment of hope, and he desperately needed to hold them.Apparently the paramedic understood the urgency of