Brother Lucas stands in the belfry, letting the open air sink into his pores. Here he can think. Here he shouldn’t think. Here he thinks the things he shouldn’t.

Brother Lucas looks down from the belfry, across the woods and the river. There he could be free. There he dare not run. There he should like to run naked and free.

Brother Lucas strips his habit onto the stone floor of the belfry, and stands, bare. Now he can feel the air. Now he should not be seen. Now he can see his thoughts of freedom in the open air.

Brother Lucas steps onto the ledge of the belfry arch, the great bell in silence and stillness behind him. Here he can think. There he dare not run. This is how he can be free. Now the air rushes past his bare skin, as freedom approaches and his thoughts disappear.

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