Creative Writers' Guild: The Untold Story Of LAZARUS
THIS WORK IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND WAS NOT INTENDED TO OFFEND ANYBODY OR RELIGION. IT IS AN ALTERNATE OF THE REAL STORY.
Now I know better. I know that a man's enemy does not live faraway in Kano. No. And he is not the tyrant president waving to you on the telly. In fact, he is not your neighbour next door that laughs at your tattered jeans. Your enemy resides in your very home.
You all believe Martha and Mary loved me. It is a blatant lie. And if I don't tell you this, it is possible you remain oblivious to the truth. Whilst Mary is a true darling, Martha is my arch-enemy. Tell me. How else would a friend send you to the dungeon for three good days?
That day, Martha had told me not to go out to play. She said it would rain. I ignored her piece of advice. I had to see my darling, Deborah. Not even Rabbi could stop me from seeing her. The rain fell, I caught a cold and before you knew it, I was wrapped up in white linen and presumed dead.
When I heard legs move hurriedly and people speak in muffled tones, I was surprised. I was floating. I enjoyed it. Then, there was this uneasiness. I couldn't breathe properly. I tried to shout to no avail.
The gathered mass was crying. I couldn't say a word. I stayed silent to know what their next move would be. It was when the room got darker that I knew I was in deep trouble. The feet left hurriedly and before I could say 'Jack', everyone had disappeared.
The only source of light I had vanished with them. The manner in which I was wound up couldn't allow me to sit. So, I rolled from side to side struggling to get air.
I lay still for another hour. I didn't like this kind of prank. I was angry. No. ‘This is deadly. No one would welcome this idea’. In my heart, Martha had pushed too far. ‘Yes. This is it. I'll report her to Rabbi this time’.
If I take you through the events of the three days I spent in the cave, you will be reading another epic longer than 'Beowulf. Let's leave it for another day.
I know you still do not believe me but why do you think Rabbi wept? You got it all wrong. He was weeping for the gross wickedness of Martha. Not because I died.
He of all people knew I couldn't die that easily. Well, you needed to see the insane grin on Martha's face. Oh, I wish you guys were in Bethany. You would have understood this drama better.
Not everything is as it seems. Well, I have lived ever since then in the mortal frame of living beings. I leave a host body once I can feel it's weak.
If you're looking for Lazarus today, you won't find him in Jerusalem or Bethany. I have a new host body. His name is Damilola Aiki, in faraway Africa. Don't worry, you are next.
Now I know better. I know that a man's enemy does not live faraway in Kano. No. And he is not the tyrant president waving to you on the telly. In fact, he is not your neighbour next door that laughs at your tattered jeans. Your enemy resides in your very home.
You all believe Martha and Mary loved me. It is a blatant lie. And if I don't tell you this, it is possible you remain oblivious to the truth. Whilst Mary is a true darling, Martha is my arch-enemy. Tell me. How else would a friend send you to the dungeon for three good days?
That day, Martha had told me not to go out to play. She said it would rain. I ignored her piece of advice. I had to see my darling, Deborah. Not even Rabbi could stop me from seeing her. The rain fell, I caught a cold and before you knew it, I was wrapped up in white linen and presumed dead.
When I heard legs move hurriedly and people speak in muffled tones, I was surprised. I was floating. I enjoyed it. Then, there was this uneasiness. I couldn't breathe properly. I tried to shout to no avail.
The gathered mass was crying. I couldn't say a word. I stayed silent to know what their next move would be. It was when the room got darker that I knew I was in deep trouble. The feet left hurriedly and before I could say 'Jack', everyone had disappeared.
The only source of light I had vanished with them. The manner in which I was wound up couldn't allow me to sit. So, I rolled from side to side struggling to get air.
I lay still for another hour. I didn't like this kind of prank. I was angry. No. ‘This is deadly. No one would welcome this idea’. In my heart, Martha had pushed too far. ‘Yes. This is it. I'll report her to Rabbi this time’.
If I take you through the events of the three days I spent in the cave, you will be reading another epic longer than 'Beowulf. Let's leave it for another day.
I know you still do not believe me but why do you think Rabbi wept? You got it all wrong. He was weeping for the gross wickedness of Martha. Not because I died.
He of all people knew I couldn't die that easily. Well, you needed to see the insane grin on Martha's face. Oh, I wish you guys were in Bethany. You would have understood this drama better.
Not everything is as it seems. Well, I have lived ever since then in the mortal frame of living beings. I leave a host body once I can feel it's weak.
If you're looking for Lazarus today, you won't find him in Jerusalem or Bethany. I have a new host body. His name is Damilola Aiki, in faraway Africa. Don't worry, you are next.
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