A microfiction story by Martha Cecilia Rivera©
I cant’ help but trembling. I feel I’m drowning, and something crushes my chest. I manage to get up with much effort. I take a step forward, but I fall into a blood pit. To no success, I try to wake up. The dream has me imprisoned, and I can’t open my eyes. Someone shouts that I should never be able to breathe the same air again. I am frozen and shout that I need a blanket, but nobody brings it. In front of me, and old, horrible, and toothless woman with empty eye sockets is laughing while someone is calling her “history.” Sweating, I suddenly wake up and run towards my husband to warn him, “Pontious, Pontious, do not crucify that man, do not crucify him!”