The Stranger.

Bern's Prose.

The Stranger.

I have this feeling that I am being followed. I am not the type that is easily frightened but I heard the footsteps just after I left my home. The person following me had something wrong with his or her legs. One leg dragged along the ground causing the noise that I was hearing. I now had this urge to find out whom it was that found me so interesting that he or she must follow me. I ducked into the next shop and took up a position that looked as if was after something to buy. A pair of socks caught my eye and I went through the motions as if I was going to buy the socks. With one eye on the door this man walked into the shop thrusting the socks at the nearest sales woman I gave her the money. I was still behind my cover. Taking the socks I slipped out of the shop and went on my way. I could no longer hear that dragging footstep and went to my bank. I deposited my extra housekeeping money that I saved every month and with my bank book I left the bank and went to my local Church. I sat down in the pew that I always sit in when visiting the church. The smell of frankincense and burned down candles was as it always was. I heard the church door open and that noise that had followed me walked down the aisle and stopped at my pew. In a low voice a man offered me my own bank book. How could this be, where did this man get hold of my bank book. I distinctly remembered putting it in my handbag and tightening the Zip. The bank book could not have fallen from my bag, taking the bank book from the man. I once again put the bank book deep into my bag and zipped it tightly closed.


The man walked to the altar and crossing himself with holy water he bent down in front of the Altar. The next thing I saw the man had in some way coloured his hair it was no longer black but blond. The darkness of his chin was now like a person that has clean shaved himself not so long ago. I was completely perplexed. Now I asked myself who was it that followed ,e, who was it that gave me back my bank book and above all how did this man change from a rough unshaven man into a person that looked as if he could have been either Jesus or one of Jesus’ disciples. Completely perplexed, I watched this same man rising up into and through the church roof. Not a hole was to be seen, he just rose up and out of the roof. I quickly hurried from the church and raised my eyes into the skies above the Church. Not a slate was displaced, no man was to be seen rising into the bright sunlit heavens.

Who or what was this man that had my bankbook, who followed me into my Church. How did he find me and why did he give me my bank book back. And the last mystery after crossing himself how did he float up through the roof, how did he get through the roof without displacing a tile. The roof I had personally checked. No ordinary man could have gotten through that roof without damaging or displacing those tiles. Why did he not tell me who he was? Was it Jesus, was it a disciple. One thing I am really sure about, it was no ordinary man, not even in the holiest of churches that could rise so high and go through a solid Church roof without leaving some sign of damage. Have you, or you or even you have any idea of who it was that caused me your scribbler to write and ask you these questions. Bern.

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