Rich Rockwood, Christian Author
It seems like I have always lived in this dark, smelly cell.
I cannot remember when this day began. A memory of Passover with my men flickers for a few moments and puts itself out.
The door clangs open. Two soldiers yank me off the floor and drag me to the Governor. I see faces with open pits for mouths and hear a sound like the sea. Distant and alone I stand before the crumbling pillars of justice. A man’s voice says “I am innocent” but he is not speaking for me. No one is, not even me.
I fall under the weight of the woody bulk. For the first time, I see the busy “Skull.” Whenever I stumble, I hear cheers slowly bouncing off the city walls. A nightmare is invading these holy streets.
And now giant nails rip open my flesh and splatter my blood. A throat burning…
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