Paul Wasn’t There
Three scenes from the spring of the year 30 and the years that followed
The room smelled of unwashed wool and old bread.
Fifty days. The same fifty bodies in the same upper room. The bread broken at every meal, the wine watered to make it last, the lamp lit at sundown and left burning through the night because nobody could stand the dark. Mary the mother sat in her corner, her lips moving in a prayer no one could hear. Peter…
