Jesus meets someone new
fiction
edward w pritchard
When Jesus was tired it was difficult to meet someone new. They came to be near, to hear or catch a glimpse.
A long long day. They touch his hand. Unable to stop it their essence flows into Jesus like the swirl of colors from the artist's paint pallet gobbing together. Each color is hundreds of thousands of experiences and sensations. Sometimes bumps and sometimes sharp jagged edges run into Jesus. Everything someone is is immediately revealed to Jesus. The colors snap into a sub atomic blip from then on always a part of Jesus. It's painful such revelation.
Jesus lays a hand on your shoulder and smiles sadly.
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