Brother Leopold appeared to be stuck.
"Get the Prior."
"Get Fr. Thomas."
He just smiled. Looking at nothing. As if a set of scales covered his eyes. It was a strange look, but the smile was stranger.
When he came to, still smiling, he said: "We've been wrong all along."
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I'm practicing. Foundling Review is holding a 50 word story contest this summer. Details: http://www.foundlingreview.com/PachaasContest2.html
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