Sixty three fellow Time Travelers were already there. They arrived in blue globes, machines of steel and brass, and squares boxes that were run by flushing the toilet. One of them was a white dog who stood upon his hind legs, and next to him was a skinny, bespectacled boy.
Jesus had been nailed, had been hung up, and skin peeling, the nails tearing through his skin as he sagged, he ran his hard eyes across us all. I wondered if the woman with the cup had been past.
"You fools," Jesus whispered harshly. "Didn't anyone ever tell you this was a cliche?"