June 29, 2004
She waits for the church bell to ring. The villagers are older than she remembered. She's a fortunate one. Plucked and transported to another place with busy highways and telephones. No use looking at her watch. The good priest rings the bell when he's ready. Her watch has stopped. It understands the villagers pace. She does not. When the bell rings, she'll know it's time to walk down to the town square, and perhaps the small store will be open and she can buy something for dinner. Perhaps the storekeeper will not want to open today; such is his way.