Love between the Synagogue and the Assembly_Speeding Ticket Jones_A friends eulogy_A memory of bliss
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Love between the Synagogue and the Assembly
Alexandria 132 CE Eudokia said to her husband Dioscorus in bed at night, ‘Of course, I’m worried for the city, especially with this drought, and I’m worried for the parish. But what’s keeping me from sleep tonight is worrying about Julianna.’ Eudokia and Julianna were running a relief program in Alexandria during a famine due to the lateness of the Nile flood, Julianna recruiting volunteers from her synagogue and her academy, Eudokia recruiting parishioners from the Ekklesia (assembly) of St. Annianus. ‘It was brave of her, coming to Assembly, wasn’t it?’ he replied. ‘We know it wasn’t the H...
Speeding Ticket Jones
Tia’s Grill had been on this street since before Damien was born, and seeing as how it was always full of people, would probably be there long after he was gone. There was a different mural painted on each wall, with colorful paper decorations hung neatly from the ceiling. The bar was in the center of the place, lit mostly by the three mini tv’s put up in the back by the all the bottles of liquor. The regular bartender was there, mixing drinks to make his own sort of magic. ‘Alcohol magic would probably be pretty useful’ he thought as a waiter passed the table with a tray full of smoking faji...
A friends eulogy
Deals with death. This is not a real eulogy. It's written to look like a fake script to read from. I've got a plan. If you've ever been with Chris in a situation that requires any sort of "critical" thinking, you'vewww.onedoor.cc heard him utter these famous four words before. But more often than not, when Chris said he had a plan....he didn't really have a plan, or not a very good one at least. But that was part of his charm. He never failed to get you to crack a smile, even in the most dire of situations. Because we all know just what kind of "plans" Chris was the mastermind of; Shitty ones! I promised my...
A memory of bliss
Sitting across from the benchtop, I can see my friend, her energy reminding me of fonder years. I can see her family photo hovering over her head like a halo, a picture by the fence. With her spouse, they had long, flowing manes woven of gold, a handsome pair, young and free without a care in the world. Memories of sunshine and delight that felt as real then as it does now. It was heavenly, was being the very special word. She rushes from washing a tomato to wringing her hands in the tea-towel, moving with the excitable energy of youth. She is humming to herself, the upbeat tune of a hip-hop ...