The tower has been here since the 13th century. It’s bells have been ringing for many people. For fires and feasts, for births and burials. In March we rang the bells every Wednesday night. They were bells of hope. The church’s neighbour loves technology. He has turned the tower blue. As if the tower mourns the world we have created. But it doesn’t. It  stands there. And it watches.

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Volgende bericht
The promise of an empty shelf