The Passing of Truth
Here's a very short story I wrote once for a writing contest. I wish I could have told you I won, but I didn't. However, everyone that has read it, considers it to be a terrific read. Of course, I'm inclined to agree with them as many of the things I write, I enjoy.
What's interesting about my writing style is that I don't plan things that far out in advance, if any at all. I tend to write off the top of my head and somehow my brain always figures out a way to not only tie things together, but it dares to try something that I haven't done before.
I introduce to you:
The Passing of Truth
By S. Michael Cannon
She looked behind her once again before she pushed open the door. She knew she only had moments to search the office. In this time of conflict, a woman’s presence in this room would only douse oil on the existing fires of hell. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a handwritten note resting on the middle of the desk. It was the writing of her husband and it read, “For all things will be brought into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil. Today the World loses Truth. I, so falsely great, stand to let things pass.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she read the pain that was expressed by the man that kept her heart. Such a burden had been cast on him. He is only but a man, but in the presence of the people he was required to hold the face of a god. Such responsibility took a toll on him, and it was only she that saw his tears at night.
The shouting of the crowds in the courtroom were rising as more people came to witness the trial. The people have already made their decision. As were the ways of the law, they awaited the final condemning word of her husband, the presiding jurisdiction of this trial. She knew that she could not stand to allow such judgment to pass. There had to be something that could be done. Her husband was already seated at the judge’s seat overhearing the numerous accusations that were being thrown about. She believed all of them to be false. Her husband would have given her a concerning ear. But now that he was in the courtroom, it would be difficult seeing him. However, she knew of a way to send a message, thus her reason for being in this room.
Leaning over the desk she inscribed a note. Clutching the message of hope close to her chest, she hurried out the office. The hallway was completely empty as everyone was in the courtroom watching and participating in the trial. The sounds of the crowd intensified as her husband was heard defending the accused. The tension could be felt throughout the entire building. It was apparent that if the people did not get their demands met, a destructive insurrection would follow. Even in the face of many, one must maintain integrity. She saw the agony in her husband over the years as he slowly lost his soul to the people. Today it was going too far. She needed to help her husband win himself back to his own morality.
Turning the corner, she saw the side entrance of the courtroom. There were two armed guards standing in front of the doors. They stood motionless as they saw the woman stop before them.
In an elevated voice to be heard over the roaring masses she made her request, “Please make way as I have to deliver something to the Procurator.”
The two guards remained as statues as they stood their post.
“This is a matter of immediate importance,” she continued. “Please make way.”
She could hear her husband’s voice as he addressed the crowd with his opinions of the trial. He spoke with such outward confidence, but she knew him all to well. He was trembling on the inside. By the uproar of the crowd it was apparent that they detested his opinion of the matter.
She looked up at the guards with an attempted look of command in her eyes. “Do you not realize I am Claudia Procula? I command you to step aside and make way.”
One of the guards glanced down at her, and with a quick blink of the eye, he maintained his composure and continued to stare straight ahead. With her eyes now drown with tears; she collapsed to the floor in a manner unfitting for a woman of her stature. She clutched the legs of the guard, and as a natural reflex his hand moved towards his sheathed weapon.
“Listen to those crowds,” she cried. “They have gone mad. The consequences of their demands have not been thought out. I beg of you. Please see the morality within you. Understand what is about to take place on this hour. If I am not allowed in there, then please take this message to the Procurator.”
She rose and placed her written note in the hands of the guard. Once again his eyes looked down into hers, but this time he maintained eye contact. On the opposite side of the door, the words of the judge gave the crowd an ultimatum. A thunder rang through the crowd as they repetitively chanted their demands in opposition of the judge’s overt desires.
“Cannot you see?” she pleaded. “Now is the time. Enough people have already died. Please tell me what I need to tell you so that you may understand what has to be done.”
As if it was by a miracle from above, the guard slightly nodded. He motioned with his hand for her to remain where she stood. Turning about, he pushed open the door and the roars from the crowd escaped and overwhelmed Claudia. She trembled with the realization of what it was her husband was facing. As the door closed shut she dropped to her knees in prayer that the message would reach him in time.
The crowd demanded a final verdict to be rendered by the Procurator. All fell silent as they anxiously waited to hear what had to be said. “I am innocent of this man’s blood”, she heard her husband declare. “It is your responsibility. I surrender this man to your will.”
The crowd exploded with a mixture of cheers and jeers. At last they were given control of the situation, but however they found disfavor with a judge who could not take responsibility of his own. The doors in front of Claudia opened and Pontius Pilate stood before her. He was holding her message in his hands. The guards promptly closed the door after him. Rising from her prayer, she grasped her dear love and he buried his head into her shoulder to keep his face hidden while he wept. The message fell from his hands and onto the floor. It had read, “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him.”
The crowds outside content with the decision that had been made dragged Jesus the Christ away and crucified him.
What's interesting about my writing style is that I don't plan things that far out in advance, if any at all. I tend to write off the top of my head and somehow my brain always figures out a way to not only tie things together, but it dares to try something that I haven't done before.
I introduce to you:
By S. Michael Cannon
She looked behind her once again before she pushed open the door. She knew she only had moments to search the office. In this time of conflict, a woman’s presence in this room would only douse oil on the existing fires of hell. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a handwritten note resting on the middle of the desk. It was the writing of her husband and it read, “For all things will be brought into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil. Today the World loses Truth. I, so falsely great, stand to let things pass.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she read the pain that was expressed by the man that kept her heart. Such a burden had been cast on him. He is only but a man, but in the presence of the people he was required to hold the face of a god. Such responsibility took a toll on him, and it was only she that saw his tears at night.
The shouting of the crowds in the courtroom were rising as more people came to witness the trial. The people have already made their decision. As were the ways of the law, they awaited the final condemning word of her husband, the presiding jurisdiction of this trial. She knew that she could not stand to allow such judgment to pass. There had to be something that could be done. Her husband was already seated at the judge’s seat overhearing the numerous accusations that were being thrown about. She believed all of them to be false. Her husband would have given her a concerning ear. But now that he was in the courtroom, it would be difficult seeing him. However, she knew of a way to send a message, thus her reason for being in this room.
Leaning over the desk she inscribed a note. Clutching the message of hope close to her chest, she hurried out the office. The hallway was completely empty as everyone was in the courtroom watching and participating in the trial. The sounds of the crowd intensified as her husband was heard defending the accused. The tension could be felt throughout the entire building. It was apparent that if the people did not get their demands met, a destructive insurrection would follow. Even in the face of many, one must maintain integrity. She saw the agony in her husband over the years as he slowly lost his soul to the people. Today it was going too far. She needed to help her husband win himself back to his own morality.
Turning the corner, she saw the side entrance of the courtroom. There were two armed guards standing in front of the doors. They stood motionless as they saw the woman stop before them.
In an elevated voice to be heard over the roaring masses she made her request, “Please make way as I have to deliver something to the Procurator.”
The two guards remained as statues as they stood their post.
“This is a matter of immediate importance,” she continued. “Please make way.”
She could hear her husband’s voice as he addressed the crowd with his opinions of the trial. He spoke with such outward confidence, but she knew him all to well. He was trembling on the inside. By the uproar of the crowd it was apparent that they detested his opinion of the matter.
She looked up at the guards with an attempted look of command in her eyes. “Do you not realize I am Claudia Procula? I command you to step aside and make way.”
One of the guards glanced down at her, and with a quick blink of the eye, he maintained his composure and continued to stare straight ahead. With her eyes now drown with tears; she collapsed to the floor in a manner unfitting for a woman of her stature. She clutched the legs of the guard, and as a natural reflex his hand moved towards his sheathed weapon.
“Listen to those crowds,” she cried. “They have gone mad. The consequences of their demands have not been thought out. I beg of you. Please see the morality within you. Understand what is about to take place on this hour. If I am not allowed in there, then please take this message to the Procurator.”
She rose and placed her written note in the hands of the guard. Once again his eyes looked down into hers, but this time he maintained eye contact. On the opposite side of the door, the words of the judge gave the crowd an ultimatum. A thunder rang through the crowd as they repetitively chanted their demands in opposition of the judge’s overt desires.
“Cannot you see?” she pleaded. “Now is the time. Enough people have already died. Please tell me what I need to tell you so that you may understand what has to be done.”
As if it was by a miracle from above, the guard slightly nodded. He motioned with his hand for her to remain where she stood. Turning about, he pushed open the door and the roars from the crowd escaped and overwhelmed Claudia. She trembled with the realization of what it was her husband was facing. As the door closed shut she dropped to her knees in prayer that the message would reach him in time.
The crowd demanded a final verdict to be rendered by the Procurator. All fell silent as they anxiously waited to hear what had to be said. “I am innocent of this man’s blood”, she heard her husband declare. “It is your responsibility. I surrender this man to your will.”
The crowd exploded with a mixture of cheers and jeers. At last they were given control of the situation, but however they found disfavor with a judge who could not take responsibility of his own. The doors in front of Claudia opened and Pontius Pilate stood before her. He was holding her message in his hands. The guards promptly closed the door after him. Rising from her prayer, she grasped her dear love and he buried his head into her shoulder to keep his face hidden while he wept. The message fell from his hands and onto the floor. It had read, “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him.”
The crowds outside content with the decision that had been made dragged Jesus the Christ away and crucified him.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home