The sun was bearing down on the road to Emmaus, dust clouding my sandals as I walked. I, Cleopas, found myself alongside a dear friend, both of us downcast and consumed by a whirlwind of emotions. The events of the past three days had shaken our faith and left a void, like a boulder had rolled into our hearts, sealing it with despair.
The road was tedious and seemed to stretch endlessly. Hours into our journey, our conversation was disrupted by a cheery stranger who effortlessly caught up with us. "What are you two discussing?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips. We were astounded. How could anyone in Jerusalem be unaware of the events that had transpired?
