The Temple River
The hand was on my shoulder again, this time not to lift me, but to turn me. I felt the solid warmth of it through the worn linen of my robe. The man—the one whose appearance was like bronze, who…
The Worthless Vine
The air in the small chamber was still and close, thick with the smell of old parchment and dry clay. Ezekiel sat by the open window, but no breeze came from the east, only the unrelenting afternoon heat that made…
The Governor’s Guest
The air in Ramah still carried the faint, metallic scent of smoke, a ghost of Jerusalem’s funeral pyre that had stained the southern horizon for weeks. The dust of the road clung to Ishmael’s sandals, a fine, pale powder that…
Jeremiah’s Unheeded Warning
The heat rose from the stones of Anathoth in visible shimmers, a stifling blanket that did nothing to muffle the noise drifting from Jerusalem, a few miles distant. Baruch found the prophet where he often did these days, not in…
The Servant and the Bruised Reed
The memory of the reed is of the riverbank, of damp earth and the whisper of current. It does not remember the fire, only the crushing, the splitting, the hiss as its own moisture met the flame. It remembers being…
The Axe That Boasts
The ink was thick and black on the parchment, but the words felt heavier. I, Isaiah, son of Amoz, set the reed pen down and rubbed my eyes. The oil lamp guttered, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to mimic…
The King Who Heeded Wisdom
The air in the court of King Jotham tasted of dust and damp stone. It was not the clean dust of the desert, but the grime of a city too long under a slack hand, the mildew of justice delayed….
The Scribe and the Star-Counter
The air in Jerusalem held a particular kind of cold after the sun went down, a dry, whispering chill that slipped through the seams of doorways and bit at the knuckles. Ezra the scribe felt it as he smoothed the…
A Plea Against the Gathering Storm
The oil in the lamp was running low, casting long, nervous shadows that leapt along the rough-hewn stones of the wall. Jotham shifted his weight, the familiar ache in his legs a companion as constant as the stars scattered above…
The King’s Broken Hymn
The damp of the stone floor seeped through the thin reed mat, a creeping chill that had nothing to do with the Jerusalem night. David pulled his robe tighter, but the cold was inside. It was in the hollow of…