“Closed? What do you mean?” The man asked suspiciously.
“That’s what the sign said.” The old woman answered.
“You couldn't go in?” The man delivering laundry was intrigued.
“No. The door was closed. I looked through the window, and no one was in.” The old woman replied.
“During the day? Where is he?” The paperboy was bemused.
There was a congregation at the market square. Everyone wanted to know what was going on. No shop had ever been closed as far as they could remember. Not unless it was closing down for good.
“I saw him feeding the ducks at the pond. He said it was his day off.” The old woman said sheepishly.
“Feeding ducks? Is he crazy?” The Pasteur was concerned.
“He plans to do it on his day off every week.” The old woman continued.
“A whole day off every week! What a curious idea. What makes this day different? Does he not eat and bathe on this day too?” The farmer was agog.
“No. He just doesn’t work.” The old woman supplied
“Could we do that too?” The florist wondered.
“Sounds kind of nice.” The baker pondered.
“A whole day off every week. Outrageous What would we do?” The farmer was baffled.
“Feed the ducks.”
“Walk in the park.”
“Soak in the sun.”
“Yes let’s do it. We’ll call it Sunday, the day of rest.” The Pasteur declared.