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…
The Silent Sermon of Dawn
The first thing he noticed was the silence. Not emptiness, but a deep, held breath before speech. Eliah ben Simeon shifted on the wool blanket spread over the rough limestone, his old bones protesting the night’s chill still trapped in…
Job’s Golden Afternoon
The memory comes to him sometimes in the cool darkness before dawn, a vivid and uninvited guest. It is not a single scene, but a season—a long, golden afternoon of his life that now feels like a story about another…
Esther’s Banquet Accusation
The air in the king’s private banquet hall was thick, heavy with the scent of spiced wine and roasted meats. It clung to Esther’s robes, a perfume of opulence that did nothing to calm the cold knot in her stomach….
The Lost Book and the King’s Tears
The air in Jerusalem held the peculiar stillness of a kingdom holding its breath. Josiah was eight years old when they placed the crown upon his head, a weight of gold and expectation he could scarcely comprehend. The stones of…