Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Aspired - Despair - Diapers - Praised (08/28/25)
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TITLE: Blind Faith | Previous Challenge Entry
By Loni Bowden-Horn
09/01/25 -
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It began like every other day at the quarry. The sun scorched the earth, turning the dust into a shimmery haze that floated in the air.
I swung my hammer. The rhythmic clang echoing off the jagged rock walls. My work was my life; sculpting the smooth, flawless rock that built the foundation of Israel’s cities. My hands were calloused. My back strong,
Hiram, my best friend, was always supportive. His welcoming laugh made everyone comfortable. The two of us grew up together working in a small village.
I noticed that Hiram was unusually somber today, nursing a gash on his leg from a stray boulder. I called over to him, “Why don’t you rest awhile, Hiram! You’re likely to wilt under this hot sun.”
"And leave you with all the fun?" Hiram shot back, but his natural warmth shown through as I watched Hiram lean against a crag.
The hammer was swung one last time, aiming to split a stubborn slab of granite, and that's when things went wrong. With a shudder, the worn wooden handle gave up its grip. The heavy metal head now sailed, arcing toward the stone instead of the ground.
Hiram's laughter died on his lips the moment the projectile's destination was understood. The twinkle in his eyes froze into a blank, shocked stare, then darkness. The sudden, absolute silence that followed was a deeper horror than any sound had been.
As I gazed at Hiram, I noticed that the head of the hammer lay in the dust beside his body. If only, there was some way, I could take back the trajectory of that fatal arc. Be given a do-over.
A deep and terrible remorse crushed my heart, but I knew the law did not differentiate in the heat of the moment. In this land, a life for a life was not merely an expression.
As soon as Hiram's family learned of his death, his nearest kinsman would become the go'el ha-dam, the avenger of blood, and track me down.
In my mind's eye, a quiet, murderous anger smoldered in my friend's father's heart—a kindling rage, waiting for his blood to ignite it.
Driven by despair, I fled toward the horizon, raw and blistered feet marking each punishing step as a retreat from all that was. The shadows were the only roadmap, the purpose found not in arriving, but in leaving it all behind.
The law provided for men like me, for the unintentional killer, but it did so through a grueling race. Six cities of refuge, spread across the land, offered sanctuary
For a day and a night, I fled, the crushing guilt of my actions fueling my stride.
At last, I saw the signposts—plain, clear markers for the city of refuge, etched with the word miklat. A promise of hope awaited, yet it meant nothing if I could not first survive the hunt.
Directionless, I ran toward the setting sun, my feet scorched by the unrelenting path, I heard Zillah’s feet pounding close behind me. His guttural cry, echoing off the hills. "Stop running, kinsman! A life for a life!"
I didn’t need to turn. The thunderous steps belonged to Zilliah, a familiar figure from my past—someone who had watched me grow up and whose family had often broken bread with my own. He now a hunter, driven by grief and the ancient law to seek justice.
I was being chased, by a father, driven by the despondency of losing his only son and the ancient law to seek justice.
My heart ached with every beat. I loved both Zillah and Hiram, but the law was clear, and blood demanded its price.
I arrived at the gates of Kedesh—one of the six cities of refuge—gates open wide—Collapsing in the sanctum at the feet of the seated elders,
Safe Harbor
> I fall broken on my face before God,
> A muted cry from a weary soul
> Unmerited grace pours over me.
> Innocent blood spills,
> The High Priest's final, deliberate sacrifice—
> A final act of love.
> The old law of retribution, abolished forever.
> His death has unchained me from a past of wrongs.
> No longer a "manslayer" exiled in shadow,
> I am a citizen, reborn in a kingdom set free.
…….
Note
744 words - Fiction (Not True) Based on Cities of Refuge
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