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Published: October 22nd 2006
It was hot as blue blazes and standing room only throughout Rome. Wouldn't you know it I arrived right on a holiday. I needed a break from the maddening crowd. I approached an old cathedral and saw hoards of people pouring out of a doorway giving it little or no thought that it was the entrance as well as the exit. Without exception all the people leaving the cathedral were elderly people, mostly women. I edged my way against the crowd, joking, knowing that not a single person understood what I said: 'Hey, did I miss the party!??' Ha ha (yeah.)
Once inside, I gazed at the old cathedral. There was only one or two others in there besides myself. I decided that inside the cathedral would be a good place to write a few post cards. Yes, in the quiet, cool serene cathedral. So I found a place on one of the wooden pews, took off my little day pac. I took the cards I had just bought out of my pack. So peaceful.
But no sooner had I positioned myself to start writing when an elderly man, the curator, came up to me and in an irritated tone in French told me the place was closed... and that I should get out!
Sheeze! Hurridly I scoop up my stuff. The exasperated curator motioned for me to follow him. Hurry! Hurry! He led me through a side door, through a courtyard. I followed him through the courtyard where there was another door. All of a sudden, it all became so clear. In a moment in time, the curator opened another door that led to the street, and I was formally expelled from the cathedral. Just like tossing out a bag of trash.
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