After a few weeks of being cloistered, the young nun began running errands to the market. She used the communal bicycles and followed the main roads to the marketplace, always being careful in traffic, and paying no mind to the temptation to stop and see the sites.
After a few months, one of the older nuns invited the novice to accompany her to the market. In full attire they made their way to the convent courtyard and mounted bicycles. Out the gate, the older nun turned in the opposite direction.
The novice yelled, "hey the market is this way," pointing in the direction she always rode.
"Follow me," the older nun demanded.
They rode down dirt paths and into the village by a back road. The view was lovely, farmland, and groves, and a lake in the distance. The ride was serene, but brisk.
The novice finally caught-up with the older nun when they reached the first paved street of the village and the older nun slowed, seemed to close her eyes and let out a sigh.
"I've never come this way," explained the novice.
The older nun smiled. "It's the cobblestones."
Dick Mac Recommends:
The Divine Comedy
Dante Alighieri
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