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January 17, 2014
Jesus was done praying. He lifted his right hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. The hair was warm from the sun against his fingers. He pressed it against his scalp where it felt hot. Lifting his hood he stood up and balanced himself, feeling light-headed for a moment. Was that Him? He walked back down the narrow path to the grove where he had left the apostles. As he approached he could see that they were asleep. Timothy was snoring, his mouth open. They couldn’t even do this? Did he have to do everything? Jesus was pissed.