by Greg Johnson
Gloria Crawford knew Jesus was with her; this was no vision, no smear of light twisted into a distorted illusion. His robed back was turned towards her and even though his feet weren’t floating off the ground like they should have been, like he was walking over water, she knew it was Jesus out there with his feet firmly planted in her front yard. Whatever Gloria had done required a live appearance, she thought the least he could do was turn around and face what he was putting her through. The rejection from the man out in the grass made Gloria want to stagger over, reach for his face and pull Jesus close, to plea into his ear, to ask him—why, Gloria only wanted to know if Jesus had been with her daughter when she had died. And he just stood there underneath a beautiful sky of blue, marred with white wisps, looking up like Noah watching for the rain. Jesus, more than anyone, had the time to wait for the answers to come pouring from the sky, but Gloria knew Jesus wouldn’t tell her anything—he never had before.
Greg Johnson's short fiction has been published in Louisiana Literature and Outsider Ink. He was selected twice as a finalist for Glimmer Train Magazine’s Short Story Award. He was chosen as “an exciting young voice” and asked to be a panelist and presenter at the 21st Annual Tennessee Williams Literary Festival. He has studied with The New York State Writer’s Institute at Skidmore College and is completing a Master’s Degree in English at Southeastern Louisiana University.