I felt the tears again, and this time I made no effort to stoop them. They flowed steadily down my face; hot, bitter rivers of unspoken anger and sorrow.
The tolling of a bell broke into my reverie, sending my thoughts scattering away like marbles from an overturned jar.
He laughed quietly, again. I began to feel irritated. What was he laughing at? I had just discovered that my home, as well as those of my neighbour's, had been burnt down!goodness -_- what a switch of tone there. ok, please avoid that "whatchu looking at?" type of tone, you can ponder certain things, but this sounds like the voice of an agitated teenager, rather than an observent narrater struggling with complex emotions.