He knew he would try the impossible; his heart wanted to, his spirit needed to try. What could he lose? What harm could come to him by trying? His life couldn't be any worse, he did want to die. He would cast himself down and ask the impossible. He would ask the Nazarene to do what had not been done since the time of the prophets. If he had to, he would grovel in the dust at his feet. He would beg and plead, his desperation would be his power and his wretched condition would propel him to ask the Nazarene to heal his wretched body.
The crowd around the gate was talking about the Nazarene and the words he was speaking. He could hear excitement in the voices of some of the people. He could hear some people saying that the Nazarene must be crazy or of the devil. That he was blaspheming God by talking about the Lord Jehovah being his father. The wretched figure of the man began running towards the gate. As he ran his rags dragged in the dirt, raising a cloud of dust. A rising sense of hope gave strength to his legs. His heart was beating faster than it had for weeks. As he drew close to the crowd around the gate he began spewing out the words that had been his own personal damnation. Unclean, unclean, I am unclean. With each confession he got closer to the gate. The crowd around the gate began to run out of the path of the leper, some jumped out of his way as he moved so quickly towards the Nazarene. Many were shouting at him and cursing, move away, move away, a leper is coming his is unclean.
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