Not For Nothing | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Not For Nothing | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lorie Coffin
04/29/21
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What little light shone in the darkened room only revealed the dimming hope. Scarcity a truth and lack a reality, only a bed and bucket offered any comfort. Voices of men in agony of despair and madness echoed through the corridors, heightening the drama of his predicament. Parched and hungry men. Unwashed bodies. The stench of sweat and excrement hung everywhere and inescapably. Mice hid faces from hosts as if recoiling in a never imagined horror. Friend nor foe rarely came near this way, the shame and revulsion too great. It was a difficult task and a sacrificial ask but he was willing.

Up from the bed he rose and splashed cold water on his bearded face and smeared it in trying to erase the night’s damage. It had been another sleepless one of worry and concern but not for himself. He gathered his filthy clothes from the end of the cot and put them on once again, smoothing them as best he could. He brushed his fingers through matted hair and tried to make it neat. A little self-respect and dignity were worth the effort.

The small window was glowing brighter now as the morning light increased and he could see the scribbled marks on the wall that he used to record the days. It was the Sabbath. Kneeling carefully on weakened, aching knees, he began to pray. Then, voice strong, he went on to sing and give praise to God, emotion rising as others in the corridors fell silent to listen. They knew it all well by now and it always gave a strange peace.

When he finished, the man arose and jumped around the room, to get the circulation going he was told. The guard had provided a few tips to keep his strength up and his mental game strong. He lowered his body to the dusty floor for a few pushups, his biceps still bulging for the task. It was a routine he practiced every day and it was working, his mind and body strong, even though his belly growled and pained often from hunger and the parasites. No matter. Today was an important day and his would put it out of his mind. Soon a little bread and water would arrive, along with some figs and he’d settle down for another Roman day.

He could hear now the footsteps of the guard, a tall, burly fellow, along with an unfamiliar sound, like a rustling. He tried to see out but all were shadows. Not even the soldier’s face was ever seen but his presence was definitely felt and heard each time he approached the cell.

At once, he was there, shoving the meager food offering into the cell, along with the object of rustling and God’s favor.

“Your parchments.”

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