The bells of St. Brigit’s are calling tonight, winging over the snow and alighting on my windowsill. All day I have been imprisoned by twenty inches of snow. Something inside me quivers for escape. Something bright, warm, effervescent–and utterly impossible. But real. When I woke this morning I was half an inch above my bed. All day I’ve tried to recapture the feel of that moment without success. The quivering had almost vanished. But the bells are a clarion call; I can feel it surging again. I stand utterly still and close my eyes, focusing inward. The bells reverberate in my head. And I rise, into freedom.
Written for Write On Edge
Kathleen M. Basi 
Nice! I like the contrast between the literal imprisonment and your mental freedom, and how the bells metaphorically open the door 🙂
Wonderfully evocative – such mood and presence conveyed in so few words
I also love the contrast you have shown. Thank you for sharing this. LM x
I love the opening lines, winging and alighting. – C
Great take on the prompt!