To Be Continued
His friends peeled his body from the tree.
They wrapped his splintered flesh and broken limbs in linen, finer than any he had worn in life.
Blood seeped through the clean cloth, crimson spreading like the rays of a setting sun.
He was laid to rest in a tomb carved from rock. They covered the entrance with a massive stone,
One final punctuation point in the story. The end.
In the waking hours of the third day two women approached the tomb to pay their respects.
Suddenly the earth trembled,
The ground reeled beneath their feet and the women fell to their knees.
A figure appeared before them, blinding them like lightning.
“Do not fear,” he told them. “Why are you searching for the living among the dead?”
Shielding their eyes, the women waited for their pupils to contract.
Like developing film their vision gradually returned, exposing a glorious image.
The stone was rolled away.
The period had moved.
The story would continue.