Awakened

Awakened

As swift as the rivers of the Jordan he ran. He needed to see to believe. How could the dead rise? It was humanly impossible. It was simply irrational. Thorns cut his feet as he sprinted across the rocky ground. Jerusalem- the Holy City had been torn in two only a few days before. Though physically, the darkened sky had disappeared, the eeriness of the Rabbi’s decease remained unevaporated.

It was now in view. The grey tomb, nowhere near fit for a holy king, stood out in the fields like an army of Romans. The Romans. It was them who had killed his teacher.

Leaping over the stairs, he made his way into the tomb, the enormous stone rolled over. He walked in, tears stinging his eyes. His saviour had vanished. He made his way to the bed. It was supposed to be His final resting place. Instead of a linen-clothed corpse, their sat a pile of neatly-folded cloths. He hadn’t gone. He had conquered death. He was back.

NOTE: In Jewish culture, when a master of a servant folds his cloths at the end of a meal, it means that he is finished for now, but will be coming back.

Love the way you brought to life what it must have been like when one of His disciples found His empty tomb. Nice work. Love your writing style.

Enjoy your writing very much, loved it !!

God Bless