North, south, west, easter!

To those who recalled a certain CF poster-making effort back then, well done. You others, some things are better off unsaid.

Anyway, forward.

**

A young lad of about 23 wandered along the dusty alleyway. More dusty than usual. He looked down with some irritation.

"Rats, my sandal strap's gone loose again. That's the 3rd time this month!"

His steps turned towards the local shoemaker. Or sandalmaker, I should say. Shoes were still an unknown commodity then. And definitely NO platforms or high heels either. But I digress.

'What's up old man?'

'Why can't you be civil and say 'Shalom' like other folk do, John?'

The 'old man', barely a full decade older, looked up as the boy entered. Beckoning his servant to get the boy a towel for his feet, he began work on the offending sandal.

'So, what's the news? Town seems pretty quiet today.'

'Well, since you've been spending all week with your, ahem, girlfriend, you wouldn't know, would you?' A glint in the eye as he searched for a new strap.

"Not so fast there Zed. She's still, well, we're trying to sort out stuff. She said something though. Told me to go check out some guy in town for advice on 'matters of the heart' "
John looked up, remembering. "Who's this guy, anyway? Wasn't he from some small fishing village?"

"Nope. He's from Nazareth. Hell of a guy. Remember my sister's aunt's friend, I'm sure I've told you about her before." John shook his head, then nodded.

"Well, that guy from Nazareth healed her. She'd been bleeding for years and years, was just here asking for money to see another specialist just last month. And he cured her in ten minutes!"

"No kidding?" Thoughtful now, John looked up.

"That's not all. If you'd been here, you'd have seen him. Crowds of people following him around. The day he came into the city, it was like King David had returned, people were making so much noise. They even got out the palm branches, for goodness' sake. And you know how much cleaning up those take, not to mention how long we have to take regrowing all them palms."

The sandalmaker shifted slightly to get a better grip. A nail dropped on the floor.

"No need, I'll get it." John bent down and retrieved the nail. "So, is there any way I can meet him? Know where he's staying while he's in town?"

Pausing in his work, the sandalmaker shook his head.

"Thats the thing. they're taking him down today. He got on the wrong side of the Pharisees."

John furrowed his brows. "That doesn't sound right. You said he was popular with the people. So what, they're throwing him into prison?"

"No, they're going for the worst."

"What? The cross? What'd he do to deserve that?"

"No idea. Right, here's your shoe done." John reached over, his mind still in a whirl.

"Well, you going to stand there all day, or pay up?" John looked up at him, eyes coming into focus again. "Rats, I left my coppers in another tunic."

Before the sandalmaker could reply, the candle flickered, and went out. John looked up, suddenly noticing how much darker the room had become. Weird, it was still the middle of the year. He went to the door and looked out.

"It's not supposed to be this dark. It's only the sixth hour, isn't it?" The sandalmaker was too busy getting more candles to reply. Didn't need them though, as the darkness passed after a few minutes.

"Weird. Anyway, here's your sandal. Don't forget to pay up."

"Thanks. Pity about the guy who got killed. Wish I could've met him."

"Yup I know. I'd have a thing or two to ask him myself."

**

You know what's really weird? How the supernatural can take place amidst the natural without people taking notice.