One Tuesday, the bells in the town square didn't chime. They groaned.
"It’s broken," Mayor Thorne declared, sweating through his expensive, yet counterfeit, silk suit. "My administration is transparent!" The stone shrieked.
The tension broke when young Leo, the baker’s son, walked up to the stone. "I hate my dad’s bread," he whispered. "It’s dry and tastes like sawdust." The humming stopped. The silence was deafening.