Dawn Knox
coffee, black and bitter
The scruffy man hobbled down
the aisle of the empty church.
He peered at the model of the
chubby baby in the manger reaching up to Mary and Joseph. Everything was clean,
sanitised and calm.
But it had been hot and
sweaty when He was born. And crowded. Animals, relatives and well-wishers had
filled the stable that His parents had been lucky to find.
The priest approached, ready
to bribe the scruffy man to leave with the price of a cup of coffee.
He turned and shuffled away
sadly. Even here, in this church, there was no room for Him.
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