Braveheart?

Freedom’s no good if you’re dead. 

-Job

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Liberty

The regal librarian found herself alone in the downtown library. Again.

It was quiet, just as she liked it.

She sat lost in her mathematical thoughts, chewing on her pencil when a greasy young mechanic stumbled in from the noisy street.

He reminded her of a TV detective. He had a bald head.

‘My boy requires a book on the construction of the Statue of Liberty, if you have one.’

The librarian responded in her quiet, critical voice.

‘I am happy to check for you, but you are not at liberty to speak so loudly young man.’

The young mechanic hung his head low.

‘Sorry, I haven’t been in a library since I left school. I forgot.’

She left to check the relevant section.

The young man left silently.

The regal librarian found herself alone in the downtown library. Again.

It was quiet, just as she liked it.

-Job