Selected Fiction

The vision that wrenched Caiaphas awake was different than any he had seen before. Unlike his other dreams, all of which had taken place within the temple itself or on the temple grounds, this one found him standing on rocky terrain, an uneven dirt path curving before him that led up a slope and out of sight. Although the grass and shrubbery that grew in scattered pockets across the landscape was lush and green, the general appearance of the place was dusty and remote, and Caiaphas could tell immediately that he was no longer in Jerusalem.

The crowd pressed in thick around her, and Mary struggled to see above the heads of those in front of her. She had left Bethany early that morning and had travelled to Jerusalem on foot. Lazarus was with her too, and as she glanced over at him, she was struck again at how well he looked, upright and strong. The night before, he had reclined at the table with Jesus, as her sister Martha served them and the other men who were Jesus’s constant companions. It had been such a pleasure to hear their brother engaged in conversation and to watch him eagerly eating his food, and it was hard to believe that just months before they had said goodbye to him and had wept at his tomb.

The road to Caesarea Philippi was long, and Peter found that as he walked along, he had much to preoccupy him. The things he had seen in the days since he had chosen to follow the Teacher were amazing, beyond comprehension. From that first day, when Jesus had called him and his brother as they fished near the banks of the Sea of Galilee, his life had been turned upside down. They hadn’t even stopped to moor their boats or store their nets… they had just heard the call, and answered.

It was the hottest part of the day, and the sun shone brightly from the middle of a blazing blue sky. The few clouds that had not burned off drifted across the horizon like wisps of woolen thread being pulled and twisted, halfway between the distaff and the spindle. The ground was hard and dry, with the tops of olive trees the only hint of green scattered across the otherwise rocky and rust-colored terrain.

The place where the tomb stood was dusty and barren. As Nicodemus followed his friend Joseph away from the rock-hewn cave, his mind was full. He barely noticed the pull of the donkey ahead of him, the animal feeling lighter without the load of myrrh and aloe they had carried to prepare the body for burial. He walked without seeing, and his thoughts drifted back to the conversation that continued to haunt him, especially now that the darkness had fallen.