CRUCIFIXION RELOADED
CRUCIFIXION RELOADED
FIRST PUBLISHED IN 2011
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FOR INFORMATION PLEASE WRITE TO
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To Jamey and all those who ever suffered from bullying, to
Györgyi Tarcali and Hannah Remmel for all their help, to Lady
Gaga for being born this way.
THE BIRTH
Sally‘s Gospel
Sally stopped in the middle of the bustling bazaar to find out
that she had lost her way. Men and women hurried by her
heading towards their own destination without noticing her. She
walked to the palm trees growing in the corner of the square to
find refuge from the scorching southern sun. A wind awoke,
blowing sand from the desert encircling the city. All she knew was
that she was somewhere close to the equator, a word she had just
learned from her mother. She stopped in the shade of the trees
and felt much better.
She sat down and started drawing in the sand. Her parents told
her to wait wherever she was if they were to lose each other, so
Sally being a good girl, obeyed. Restlessness was awakening
inside her, but she tried not to pay attention to it. Minutes flew by
slowly sinking into boredom, so when a tiny black bug appeared,
digging itself out from beneath the sand and hurrying away
toward a side alley, Sally rejoiced. The bug scampered away with
its black armor glistening in the light. An urge awoke in her that
compelled her to follow it. As she distanced herself from the
bazaar, the voices gradually subsided behind her. Underneath the
silence, she heard a continuous high-pitched whistle, the sound of
the sun shining down onto the world.
―Wait for me, Mr. Bug. Don‘t leave me alone,‖ she said.
The bug didn‘t seem to listen and continued its fleet away from
the giant that was larger than the sun itself.
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Sally looked up at the buildings lining the alley, so different
than the ones at home. It seemed to her that they were made of
the sand itself, growing out of the ground, simple cubes, differing
only in height. The alley gradually grew narrower until she
couldn‘t even spread her arms. Wooden crates blocked the way,
and the bug disappeared beneath them. Through the silence, a
voice emerged, speaking in English with a strange and somewhat
comical accent.
―Hiz child iz comming, bi pripered, de time haz com for hiz
return. All sinnerz show repent before itz too late…‖
There was something strange in the man‘s voice, and the
curiosity bugging Sally didn‘t leave her alone. She grabbed the top
of the bottom box and pulled herself up then climbed onto the top
one to jump down to the other side. As she approached the end of
the alley, the voice of humanity reemerged from the silence.
It was the confidence with which the man spoke that attracted
Sally, not his words. Sally stepped out of the hidden alley onto a
busy road with tourists streaming in all directions like ants in
delirium.
The source of the voice appeared, a man standing on top of a
crate. The potato bag he was wearing was his sole garment. He
was bald and his skull shined as the drops of sweat reflected the
beams of the sun beating down onto the world persistently. His
beard flowed down onto the pavement and was covered with
sand. His eyeballs protruded a little, and his left one remained
still. He gesticulated wildly with his arms. His thin legs quivered
as they balanced on top of the box. As he spoke, he jumped on
and off the crate constantly pointing toward the sky and begging
the passers-by to listen.
―Bevaaaare,‖ he screamed. ―Birdz fall from the vild blue yonder,
floodz destroying whole cities, eartquakes shatter face of earth
and cause nucler pover plants to seep poison into Godz zoil! The
end is near. He vill return to destroy the sinnerz and bring the
pure onez to heaven!‖
She looked at the adults hurrying away and didn‘t understand
why they weren‘t listening to the warnings of this poor,
disgruntled man.
―Fase the sky and show ripent. You hav bin varned.‖
Sally did as she was told. She looked right into the burning sun,
and she could see something moving. The sun expanded for a
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moment as an old man standing on a cloud dashed out of it. Sally
rubbed her eyes as her sight gradually returned.
Two officers stepped to the man, one of them talking to the
beggar in a language so different than her own, like magic words
of an ancient spell. Sally only understood one word, a name,
John, or at least this is what she thought she had heard.
―Offizer, I cannot remain silent. The Mezziah is comming to the
vorld. Angel told me.‖
Sally believed John. Miracles do happen, angels exist, anything
is possible.
The policeman spoke, and John answered, ―The end of the
vorld is near, I varn vorld to be prepared.‖
The officer placed his hand onto John who pushed it away, but
the policeman did not give up and grabbed his arm once more,
forcing it behind his back this time, making John kneel to the
ground.
―Leave alone,‖ screamed John as he tried to break free, but the
policeman reached for his handcuffs and closed them with a click
around his wrist.
―Don‘t do this to me. Leave alone,‖ he shouted once more.
The officer pushed John down the alley. Everything slowed
down except for Sally and John whose head turned around
unnaturally. Sally could hear as his vertebral column snapped
until his face looked at Sally while his body faced the opposite
direction.
―The Mezziah is coming, Zally, be prepared,‖ said John.
Sally fell to the ground and started crying, not because she was
scared but because she knew that the beggar was right, and no
one was listening to his warnings.
Sally felt hands grab her waist and raise her into the air. She
opened her eyes and saw her father.
―Oh my God, Sally. I told you to wait for us wherever we lost
each other and not to wonder off.‖
Sally was happy to see her father, but the tears pouring down
her face were for the joy of something else.
―Sweetheart, don‘t cry. Everything will be alright. I‘m here, no
one will hurt you.‖
―I know, father…‖ she said sobbing.
―Then what‘s the matter?‖
Sally‘s father placed his daughter down, caressed her soft hair,
and hugged her one more time.
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―No, everything is fine.‖
―Then why are you crying?‖ he said with a look of concern.
―I‘m just happy,‖ she said as her stream of tears dried out. She
smiled in a way that only those can who see the golden gates of
heaven opening.
―Me too, darling, me too,‖ said her father and was glad that he
had found his daughter.
―The Mezziah is coming, father, the Mezziah is returning.‖
―The what? Where did you learn this word?‖
―He is coming, father…‖
―Of course, sweetheart,‖ said her father but didn‘t care to
understand the true meaning of her words.
Angela‘s Gospel
―In which room?‖
―In room 101. The first one to the left,‖ said Angela looking at
the college student blush and hurry away. She sat back behind the
counter. The next donor would come in about an hour, and
Angela knew that she could take her well-deserved nap soon. The
door closed behind the student, and she was left alone. The rays
of the sun shone through the glass facade and were reflected by
the white tiles of the entrance hall.
A car sped away before the center, disrupting the stillness like a
stone falling into the pond. It took time for Angie to settle once
more.
The door of room 101 opened a few minutes later, and the
college student appeared, placing the cup bearing his semen onto
the platter on the other side of the waiting room. A hand reached
out through the window, and the little cup disappeared. The
college student stopped by the counter, and Angie gave him the
money. The boy hurried away with a look of both embarrassment
and pride as the entrance doors closed behind him silently.
Angela sat back into her seat and lay back, enjoying the
coolness of the air-conditioner. She pushed herself away from the
desk and stopped the chair so that she could stare out one of the
huge tinted windows that covered the front of the center, the
surface facing the outside a mirror, the one facing Angela a see-
through window. The leaves of the palm trees lining the beach
moved as a gust of wind rushed away heading toward the body-
filled beach.
8
Everything was white in the center giving the place an air of
optimistic futurism, not only the tiles but the rows of plastic
chairs, her uniform, and desk too.
She closed her eyes as the rays caressed her face, just the way
her mother did every night when Angela was a child. Years after
her death Angie could still hear her mother humming, and the
tune soothed her.
Angie heard the entrance doors slide open, and her eyelids
sprung apart abruptly, pretending as if she had just rested her
eyes for a second and nothing more, but she didn‘t see anyone.
She was very good at this, imitating work. Being a single mother
is never easy and work was the only place where she could
compensate the deprived sleep caused by the midnight feedings
and diaper changes. A gust of wind blew through the open doors
bringing the whisper of the palm trees inside, words Angie could
not decipher. The entrance slid shut.
She lay back in her leather chair once more. She felt her eyelids
grow heavy, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not keep
them open. Suddenly she saw something that made her jump to
the window. This would be a memory that would haunt her until
the end of her life because she would never be able to decide
whether what she saw was real or just a daydream.
A man standing on a tiny cloud descended from the sky. His
white hair flowed in the wind just like the millions of rivers
running all around the globe, emphasizing his eyes the color of all
the oceans, and in revitalizing contrast with his nose similar to
the rugged mountains covering the face of the world. As he
grinned, his soft lips, like the pillows of the boudoir of the
fanciest, most delectable courtesan of the Moulin Rouge, enclosed
playfully his white teeth radiating like the glaciers of the north.
His beard made of clouds cascaded to the ground. As he hopped
off the tiny cloud, his white toga swayed a little, uncloaking his
dark brown leather sandals.
The door slid open, and the man entered. He opened his mouth
to speak with a voice like the thunder of an infuriated storm. ―Is
this a sperm donor center?‖
―Yes. May I help you?‖ asked Angela still thinking she was
dreaming.
―I believe I have an appointment.‖
―This is impossible, our next guest arrives in forty minutes, I
just checked.‖
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―Then check again,‖ he said gesturing at the list of names.
―Randy is the name.‖
Angela sat back into her leather seat, shaking her head. She
reached for the notebook, opened it, then followed her index
finger down the list of names and stopped. She couldn‘t believe
her eyes. She saw Randy, just the forename, written down on the
paper with her own handwriting. She looked back at this unlikely
citizen with bewilderment.
―But..but…this is impossible…‖
―What is it, Angela? Don‘t you believe your own eyes?‖
―There must be a logical explanation to this, there always is.‖
―In this you are absolutely right,‖ said the man looking around.
―I‘m sorry, this is my first time in a place like this. Could you
please show me around?‖
―Of course…of course,‖ she said scratching her head.
Angie stood up and showed him the way. They entered into
room 101. There was a white bed in the corner, a television on a
simple desk before it, and a bookshelf at the opposite side. As
Angela changed the sheets quickly, she continued, ―Here are our
magazines to help you concentrate. We have all sorts of
magazines and videos, heterosexual, gay, lesbian, S&M,
transvestite, foot fetish, everything. Choose whichever suits you.
No one will be watching, so have fun. Here is the cup that you
must try to fill, and that‘s it.‖
―Thank you very much,‖ said the old man.
Angela hurried back to her seat feeling as if she were losing grip
of reality, dreading that she was turning insane. She turned back
toward the window. The tiny little cloud the man had arrived with
was still hovering before the center.
She shook her head and faced the endless sea in the distance
when she noticed that the light outside was changing. Angela
looked up at the sun to see it was sparkling, its blinding surface
shimmering like glitter. The sun began to tremble, faster and
faster, until it shook out of control. The men and women passing
by seemed unaware. The sun began to whirl round and round,
then it stopped and exploded. For a second Angela went blind,
but as her sight returned, she saw glitter covering the sky. The
millions of tiny specks sank to the ground only to disappear
before scintillating on the pavement for a few seconds.
An opening door disrupted Angela‘s amazement. She turned
around and saw the old man emerge. He had the placid
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expression of someone right after sex, an otherworldly calmness.
His wisps of hair rose into the sky. The cup he was holding was
filled with a fluid that twinkled like the sun a few moments
before. The man placed the cup down onto the platter and walked
by Angie giving her a wink. Ting. The doors slid open. He jumped
onto the cloud, rose to the sky, and flew towards the sun that
expanded and gobbled him up.
Angela scratched her head not knowing what to do or how to
react. She then sat back behind her desk and vowed to sleep
more.
Mary‘s Gospel
―You will feel something cold enter, but apart from that you
shouldn‘t feel anything unpleasant. If you do, speak up.‖
Mary lay back and tried to relax. She looked into Josephine‘s
worried hazel eyes and smiled. Even in-between the present
circumstance Mary was the stronger one. She felt the cold
instrument touch her inner thigh that caused her to hiss. The
probe slid up her vagina, and as soon as she grew accustomed it,
she didn‘t feel a thing.
A dream was coming true, and there was nothing that could
ruin this. The room decorated with pale-green tiles couldn‘t hide
the fact that this was a hospital. The touch of white leather on her
neck that felt cold before, now stuck to her skin.
The doctor disappeared under her skirt. The bright light
coming from above blinded her and made her squint, so she
closed her eyes and excluded all stimuli, trying to disembody her
spirit and sink into the cotton-like nothingness of anticipation.
Maybe this was a hospital room to others, but to her, this was
the place where she would get the gift she most relished. Mary felt
a sting that brought her back into the present, the probe slid out.
The face of the gentle doctor reemerged from under her skirt and
smiled, his moustache dancing over his upper lip as he spoke.
―We are done.‖
Mary sat up. ―Already?‖
The doctor nodded and turned to the sink to wash his hands.
―Yes. Don‘t forget to attend the control examinations.‖
―Of course not, doctor.‖
The doctor stepped to the door, and before leaving, turned
around. ―Great, see you then.‖
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―Good-bye, doctor.‖
The doctor nodded and left. The door closed with a click, and
the silence gradually settled like specks of dust stirred up by a
breeze. She turned toward Josephine, and they smiled in a way
only those can who know that a miracle had just happened.
Mary‘s blue eyes sparkled like the calm surface of a pond
mirroring the rays of the afternoon summer sun. Josephine‘s
hazel eyes glowed like the fur of an otherworldly enchanted deer
fleeing from all eyes, not to be seen by anyone, ever. Mary raised
her arm to grab hold of Josephine‘s hand and held it as if they
were going to be petrified for eternity this way so that future
generations would see them in this exact pose until the marble
crumbles and returns back to the ground from where it came
from. Mary stood up, and they hugged turning into one, not in the
way that two people unite during sex, but in a way that two halves
of a piece reunite after centuries of loneliness and never-ending
dreadful search for the other. They didn‘t say a word because
there was nothing to say, only hope that the inception would be
successful.
As they left the hospital, the afternoon sun sank under the
horizon, and darkness embraced the world.
―You stay here, Mary. I‘ll go and get the car,‖ said Josephine
squeezing Mary‘s shoulder.
Mary nodded and watched Josephine‘s tall figure hurry away
into the night. Josephine was so different than her, she always
wore suits, and her blonde hair was primly cut short. Mary was
quite the opposite, the waves in her hazel hair tumbled onto her
shoulder freely. The dark blue dresses she usually wore was in
contrast with her full red lips.
Mary stood under a street lamp that blinked a few times then
went out. Darkness covered her like an ever-soft blanket. Fireflies
arrived from nowhere and buzzed around her like tinkling stars
before flying away into the night. The moon smiled down on the
world just like a mother watching her dormant child.
The light returned, but Mary was surprised to see that it wasn‘t
the street light that emitted this natural luminescence. She looked
down, and through her thin blue dress, something glowed like the
sun itself warming her from within. Mary knew that the light was
coming from her womb.
Josephine stopped the red convertible before Mary. She
couldn‘t believe her eyes for she too saw the sun burning inside
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Mary‘s abdomen. The white light it emitted gradually turned into
darker shades of red until it set under the horizon of the uterus to
plant itself like a seed in a soil loosened by the days of rain.
―What happened, Josephine?‖ asked Mary knowing the answer
already.
―It‘s a miracle, Mary, it‘s a miracle. There is no other
explanation.‖
They smiled at each other for a few seconds surrounded by an
unbreakable silence.
―Josephine,‖ said Mary, ―scoot over, I want to drive.‖
Josephine obeyed, and Mary jumped into the car with a
heavenly agility as if a part of her were made of the clouds of
heavens. Mary pressed down the clutch and put the car in first
gear then held down the breaks and gave some gas to the engine.
When the motor began revving high, she began releasing the
clutch, giving gas until the rear tires burnt loose, releasing white
smoke accompanied by the smell of burning rubber. She released
the clutch and brakes at the same time, permitting the car to
rocket away, giving out a deafening screech.
Mary enjoyed the cool breeze blowing against her face. The
streetlights made the road burn in a calming orange. The many
skyscrapers rose toward the sky, trying to reach the moon. Behind
the many windows distinct lives resided, like many tiny planets
orbiting around their circuits. In each window a singular world
could be found, with its own laws, habits, and points of view.
Mary caressed her stomach. She was feeling something that
one only feels when their dream comes true. It is a power that not
only gives comfort, but an immense joy, a joy to be alive. They
sped away through the city preparing itself to go to sleep, heading
home to spend the night behind a glowing wind