The Bell Rings for Giles Bloom
From the Pen of Thomas Miller
When the old courthouse clock struck midnight, the air over Palatka thickened — not with fog or storm, but with memory. The bell rang twelve times, heavy and slow, and on the twelfth toll, the ghost of Giles Bloom stirred once more.
He was not the kind of ghost who frightened the living. No rattling chains, no cold hands from the dark. Giles moved like wind through the pines, whispering to those who were lost — the broken souls who wandered too close to the edge. He had been one of them once, long ago.
In life, Giles Bloom had known the hollow ache of a nation tearing at itself. He’d watched friends fall into despair, families divide, and promises turn to ash. He’d marched, spoken, tried to make things right. But in the end, the world took more than his life — it took his hope.
Now, from somewhere between heaven and the ruins of his past, Giles looked down upon the pain of this nation. Cities burning with confusion. Rivers running with greed. Young hearts starved for meaning in a world that had forgotten its soul. He could not save the living with words anymore, so he guided them in silence — a hand unseen, a voice half-heard, a light flickering in the fog.
Sometimes, a lonely veteran sitting by the river would feel a calm wash over him, as if a friend had placed a hand on his shoulder. Sometimes, a runaway girl would pause before stepping into the road, turning instead toward the faint glow of a church window. Sometimes, a broken man would lift his eyes from the bottle, whispering, “Not tonight.”
That was Giles Bloom. The unseen shepherd of the weary.
He carried no anger now — only sorrow for what had become of the living. But in that sorrow burned a purpose: to make sure no soul stumbled into the same dark he had.
Each night, when the courthouse bell rang, Giles’ ghostly hand reached out again — steady, patient, kind. And though few ever saw him, many were saved by him.
Because the bell still rings for Giles Bloom — and through it, he reminds us that even the dead can care for the living.