There’s a then a couple days later was no where to be found.  He wasn’t in the tomb.  His mom and girlfriend were dumbfounded, but not surprised.  He was a curious fellow when he was alive.  He was met on the road later, glowing like a radioactive flower, and freaked most of his friends out.  Full of surprises.

The story, however, has spread around the globe.  It’s not the only story of dying and walking again.  What is so special about this story?  Spring does it every year.  Renewal is an old story for Nature.  Other gods did it too.  Whatever the hero, it reminds me that I’m in a cycle. 

Maybe I’m a washing machine just waiting for the next cycle.  Next life.  Next horizon.  It reduces all today’s drama to another story.  My goal these days is to make a really good story.  Today.  My stories, like my dad’s and his dad’s and Christ’s and Buddha’s and Hermes Tristamagistus, will fade.  But while I’m here, I’m the story teller of my life.

That IS my story, and I’m sticking to it.