Spencer Moseley

          Three men bore gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to a stable beneath the Bethlehem sky. They knocked urgently. Mary, picture-perfect holding her baby, motioned to Joseph to let them in. The men smelled of camel’s hair, body odor and lentils. They wordlessly placed their gifts before the baby, murmuring words in their own tongue.  Mary thanked them with a smile, and they left in terror. Their gifts appeared like the gifts offered by the ancient Greeks to appease pagan gods. If these rich men were that scared, Joseph felt he should be too. “Let’s go,” he said to Mary. Her face said she needed more convincing. "I dreamed of this moment." She looked at him and, for once, complied. He strapped the saddle on the donkey as Mary nursed the boy. Joseph wanted to kill him, and he hated himself for feeling that way. He thought of Moses smacking bare rock with his magic staff in frustration. Relatable. He grunted at himself in disgus...

          Nicodemus snuck out of the portico of Solomon as twilight dimmed over the Galilean sea. He had a heavy foot and kept looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t heard or followed. His every step sounded thunderous to him. He found Jesus in a garden, smiling. His gait was carefree, and Nicodemus wondered at him.  “Hello, Nicodemus,” said Jesus, plucking a snow white lily. He had not turned to see Nicodemus, so Nicodemus wondered how he knew he was there. “Hi, Jesus,” said Nicodemus. His own voice sounded stupid to him.  Jesus sat on a rock, overlooking Jerusalem, and the filthy city looked pretty in torch light. Nicodemus perched nearby, an awkward ten feet away. Nicodemus had a question prepared and on his lips. He worked up the courage and stuttered through it, “Rabbi, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” “One must be born again to enter my kingdom,” said Jesus, turning to what seemed an automated reply. Had he had th...

“Lazarus, come out,” said Jesus, extending his arms toward the open tomb. The crowd, smelling of shit, stood there, waiting.  Lazarus emerged, covered in burial cloths blackened with blood and streaks of pus. The crowd gasped in amazement and started to dance. Songs rang out with shouts of, “Messiah, messiah.” “Why?” Lazarus wheezed, his voice barely audible through the burial cloths. “Lazarus,” said Jesus.  Something was wrong. Lazarus looked haggard.  “Fuck,” Lazarus screamed as he ripped off some of the cloth from his arm. Blood fell like rain as a scab reopened. Jesus remained calm but alert. The crowd behind them began to disappear as they went into Bethany to spread the news of Jesus’ miracle. “I’m sorry for your pain,” said Jesus. “You’re sorry?” Lazarus asked.  “Yes,” said Jesus. Lazarus let out a psychotic laugh.  “Why did you bring me back?” he asked.  Jesus paused and looked at him, “My father requested it.” “I was with Abraham in a place with no...

Well how long will you fuck her? said Jeff.  As long as she'll let me, I guess, I said. I almost said I suppose but knew I'd only be saying that to sound more sophisticated. More in control. I took another sip of Bulleit.  So that's that huh. I detected a hint of judgment and an unspoken request for a redeeming reason. I could've said that we did have chemistry or  who knows where this might go . But that didn't feel honest. Really. So instead I stood up to get the bottle for a refill. He tapped his cigar butt while looking down. Jeff was sophisticated. At least he liked to think so. He did use beard oil. I purposely poured his whiskey too quickly and enjoyed his panicked DUDE.  Truthfully I felt a little bad fucking someone just because they allowed it. She was a placeholder for someone I actually wanted. And fucking her anyway felt. Wrong. But I had made myself clear. I see us just as friends, I'd said. And she'd still agreed to keep fucking me. So maybe w...

I drank heavily at my karaoke bar of choice the other night: Bedrock Tavern. It should be called Ash Tray Tavern cuz that's how you'll smell after a thirty second visit.  It's quaint though. No one looks at you when you enter (could be cuz I'm white), but it's not hard to get a bartender's attention. I think a bartending requirement is a D cup.  I ordered my usual double Jack and Coke but forgot to tell them short. So it came in a 20 oz glass with mostly Coke. Whoops.  "You Tyler?" I asked the DJ hosting karaoke. "I'm Taylor." "Oh shoot man I'm so sorry," I over explained. "One day I'll get it." I asked him if he had "Cover Me Up". He said he did. I gave him my name timidly. He didn't react but I assumed he heard me and walked off.  I went and talked to a cute girl I'd met a couple visits before. She                                          ...

I walked into the darkish restaurant: Mian. My favorite Szechuan Chinese spot in Houston. A lovely lady asked me if I was dining in. I said yes and she said "sit wherever you would like".  I sat at one of those tables adjacent to a wall and faced the restaurant entrance (so I wouldn't be facing the other patron one table down from me). I pulled up the online menu on my phone and ordered like the hungry boss I was: Beef noodles, Pork dumplings, Brown Sugar Milk Tea. I had enough time to read my mediocre fantasy novel while I waited for the meal. They brought me this spicy cabbage and plum tea to start. Sorry Kimchi, but China does spicy cabbage better in my opinion. The smooth chopsticks took some getting used to but I managed.  The beef noodles came out next. The beautiful, very large bowl was brimming with red chili oil, chewy yellow-brown noodles, green onions, bok choy, and clumps of beef. The broth was the beefiest flavor. And though I ordered mild, it had quite a spi...

"El Kicheeee," I mumbled to myself. I like to do that in my car for some reason. I'd eaten at the Vietnamese spot next to it, so I was sure this place would be good too.  The Guatemalan Bakery/Restaurant was charming. On the left were the pastries you could snag and purchase at the register. And everywhere else there were booths or tables for restaurant dining. I wandered aimlessly until a lady asked me if I would like to eat. I said yes. She pointed at a table next to her and said I could sit there. I waited til she walked away and sat at a booth. I'm partial to booths. I waited about 15 minutes until a hottie asked me what I'd like to drink.  "Jamaica and a water please," I said. She was so hot but I maintained eye contact. I get proud of myself for things like that. She looked like she was studying me, which unnerved me a bit. But she broke into a partial smile and walked away.  I had reviewed the menu but didn't want to rush the system by asking ...