Seeking the Way

Augustus, the junior Roman guard at the Tullianum prison, had lied to the jailer regarding his shift schedule. It was not his turn to guard the newly arrived prisoner, Paul, a learned man from Tarsus. Augustus could pay a severe penalty for lying to the jailer. But he didn’t care. For ever since Paul was admitted, Augustus had wanted to speak with him. Truthfully, it was to hear more from Paul about the ‘miraculous man’ whose name had turned hearts all over Galilee and Judea. Some of which hearts, Augustus heard through the grapevine, also belonged to fellow Roman guards working in those regions. The story of that miraculous man was unlike any Augustus had heard about — healed blindness, water turned into wine and, even, the resurrection of individuals. Augustus wished for such a man to enter Rome. Mainly because of his wife who, day by day, was dying of a disease which doctors couldn’t name. So Augustus just had to know more from Paul about that miraculous man and his deeds. Deeds which, Augustus felt, carried more credibility than the deities brought into Rome by foreign locals. Indeed, Augustus would ask Paul about that name. The name ‘Jesus’.

Let the Words Free You

As a lawyer, Jerome was used to the pressure of speaking in court. Despite the usual presence of hostile faces snarling at him from the court’s gallery, he always relished dishing out his arguments to the judges presiding over his cases. And he was darn good at it, never lacking in the confident bravado of black boys brought up in the roughest parts of the city.

But Jerome could never be prepared for this day, a day where he was the one on trial. Never in his life could he have imagined to be accused of those allegations. ‘The Big Local One,’ the media had titled the case. Jerome had no one today: closing argument day. Not a lawyer to represent him, not his friends and not, even, his family — who didn’t want the attention of journalists around them.

Jerome was alone. Just him and his words, to face the jury. To face the world.

A Tale of Second Chances

Richard had never been a believer; his belief system veered only towards the tangible things the world offered him: a steady job, smart investments here and there and, of course, how much money his car dealership raked in every month.

But when his Lexus collided with a truck at eighty kilometres per hour, and he found himself in a ditch hanging upside down, he couldn’t ignore the possibility of a divine presence. Of God.

Though it was not the simple fact that he survived the crash that led him to that conclusion. It was the light-filled, golden-armoured man standing not too far from his battered vehicle.

The Pain of Regret

The clock on the bedside table flashed 4.26 p.m. Though it was winter, Meredith’s forehead was drenched in sweat. And not because of the heavy jacket she wore, or the thirty-minute walk from the metro to her home. Rather, her nervousness was solely due to the letter she now held in her hands. At last it was time to find out if her child — her precious baby boy, Carl — was truly her husband’s.

Goodness

It was cold in the empty church. But that was not the reason Elijah’s hands were shaking, clasped over the pew. For the first time in his life, he was kneeling. Kneeling to seek a God he didn’t know. And no, he wasn’t looking to recite the usual prayers, those he’d learnt when he was a boy. This time, he wanted - or rather needed - to hear from God. Problem was, he hadn’t a clue about how to pray.

Paranoia: In The Room

Therapy was never an option for me. Therapy was a thing only meant for insane people, I always thought.

‘I’m completely fine,’ I would often say to myself about my mental stability. Especially when contemplating a thing I did which could be deemed a bit crazy.

But I stopped saying this the day I grabbed the knife, looking to defend myself with it, only to find nothing but air waiting for me.