In the darkened church

This morning, I had organised to visit the Asti markets with a friend. The friend was going to pick me up at 9.30am at a local shopping centre car park. I arrived a few minutes early so walked across the road to visit a church. The main doors are not normally open so I went around the side. When I opened the door I was greeted with empty darkness. The lights had not yet been turned on. As I squinted through the blackness I saw a figure with lots of hair and a thick beard scramble at a donation box then quickly light a candle. I decided that it may not be a good idea to loiter in the church with this person. So I turned on my heels. As I hauled the heavy wooden door open, I fully expected to be dragged back into the dungeon by two strong hands on my shoulders. However, a few minutes later, I was again waiting at the car park. I stood there in the cold, bathing in my sensible decision and close escape, when the church bells rang. A short time later, my undesirable stranger walked out of the church and along the street. Had I really been thinking such evil thoughts about the trusted bell ringer?

 

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