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Believing Jesus: A Psychiatrist’s Festive Season

by Kate Simblet

I’m feeling Christmassy. 

The first Jesus of the season.  He’s been writing – a sequel to the bible. It’s kept him busy, too busy to eat, sleep, or wash.

Heard the word from the Big Man. So why take the pills? 

I’ve got ideas: more diversity, more women. Maybe add fights. Some car chases too?

We don’t get the chance to speak or debate it.

He screams, ‘Jesus! I’m Jesus!’

Strips naked and sprints at the hospital wall.

We retreat (for our safety).  Look away (for his dignity).

But I sneak a quick peek, check his sides for spear holes.