Another dream I had
Softly spoken. Stepped up into the light, away from the fire. Smiling, unobtrusive. You.
Paralyzing, analyzing. You.
There seems to be a wrinkle in the fabric. The keyboard not typing straight. The fire burned. I remember now. I remember the fire licking at your dress. Cries of “heretic” filled the air. Cries of blasphemy, cries of despair. You uttered nothing in your defense. Not a sound.
Pilate stood amazed. Pilate was me.