Short Stories

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She lowered her jar into the well, oblivious to the presence of the jew who sat by the well-side. 'please give me a drink', he says. Evidently surprised, she snapped, 'can't share my cup with a jew.'
'If only you knew who asked you for a drink', came the reply.
She was tired of men trying to 'sweet-talk' her.
'Another imposter', she thought to herself.
'Don't they ever get tired of ale?'
She must play along though, 'he could be good for a sport.'
'I can give you living waters from an eternal well.'
'That's splendid sir', she twittered with an undertone of mockery.
'Give me this water so that I won't have to come here to draw anymore.'
'Go call your husband', Yeshua retorted.
'I have none.'
'Yes you're right. You've had five - Joachim, Ethiazub, Nathaniel, Gaius and Judas. Also, Salmon, whom you now live with, is not your husband.'
If she was surprised at his request for water, she was even more by this startling revelation.
'What kind of man is this? He must be a prophet.'
'When you were abused by your first love, I knew. The bruised brows, swollen lips and dented confidence you tried to mask for years, I'm well aware of. I watched when you relocated time-and-time again in a bid to forget the past and start over.'
'I know the pain, hurt and disappointments you meet every step of the way.'
This was more than she could bear. Subdued and sad, she broke down into tears - an act she's vowed never to perform again after the last two failed attempts at living with a man.
He touched her, spoke comforting words to her and gave her the hope she's long sought for.
Few hours later...
She sped off into the city, without her pitcher, going as fast as her legs could carry her.
'Come see e man who told me all I ever did.'
Could this be the Messiah?'

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