The thumping sound of a human head hitting the stone ground sent a chaotic chill slithering through Michael’s spine as he dashed into an alleyway. Heart pounding, he managed to mutter a few words. “Now what?” Sporadic clusters of people ignored the ruckus and continued to mill around at a frantic pace trying to fetch last minute bargains before the vendors closed their shops as if confrontation was part of a normal day. He tried to catch his breath, exhausted and nauseous from the day’s tragic events. This was meant to be. It’s time to get home. I can’t change time. I need to go home to Elizabeth. Maybe this cloth is needed to save someone else? Or was this cloth for Yochanan? He watched a Roman beat a man, prompting him to take a few steps closer to the altercation. A weeping woman begged for help. Michael kicked at a loose piece of rock at the base of the wall and dislodged it.
