text: Ananias watched the first ball of clay strike from the edge of the crowd. A man stood before the cliff with arms outstretched. His eyes remained open but he showed no emotion even as the clay began to rain. The rising sun signaled the beginning of the execution and the impatient crowd did not wait for the blessing of the priest, who mouthed words lost among the roar. Many aimed for the man's face only to watch their clay fly over the cliff, though some hit their mark. Some came with bowls filled, while others traded their salt to vendors, who had come with their carts heavy. Soon, the clay piled up past the man's waist and he struggled to keep his arms extended with the added weight. The fallen clay at his feet rose as fast as the sun, and as it reached his chin, the priest raised a hand, stopping the crowd immediately. The priest approached the man followed by his aides, he gestured to them, and they began to wash the clay from the man's face with wet cloths. Addressing the crowd; the priest did not raise his voice. "So ends Saul. A man who sought to test our faith and further us from our lord. He sought to destroy the tower, and though he succeeded in felling it, the tower is eternal as our faith. Many have sacrificed their lives building the tower, knowing their ancestors would one day reach the heavens. That day will come. Saul stands as the foundation. We will build anew." As the priest turned to leave, Saul spoke. Though he had remained silent throughout the drawn out execution, he cried a few words in a strained voice that pierced the crowd. "We make the same mistakes!" Those still gathered approached Saul and pressed their remaining clay into the mass that trapped him. Some spat at him, others cursed him. He kept his blank stare and responded to nothing. Many remained past noon to watch the clay begin to harden and see if Saul would finally break. They became bored when it became clear he would not gave them the satisfaction, and eventually Ananias found himself with only a priest's aide, and a group of impatient men who had not ceased in taunting Saul. One called out to Ananias: "What's that in your hand? You should know he can't hurt you. What are you waiting for?" Ananias looked down to the clay still clutched in his hand. He had squeezed much of it out between his fingers absentmindedly and had somehow forgotten he still had it. Ananias dropped the clay at his feet and the man yelled out in protest. Ananias ignored him and walked towards the statue of a Saul. He studied him for a moment. Saul did not seem capable of it. No man alone did. To destroy the tower that had stood for generations in a single night. The reason seemed clear. Saul had spent his life building the tower, and now knew he would never see it finished. Still, something did not seem right. Why would he remain to face execution if he was responding to a life in service of the church? "It doesn't matter." Saul's head bobbed as he moved his jaw. The clay had begun to harden under his chin. Ananias was startled and jumped slightly before asking "What did you say?" "It doesn't matter." Saul responded. "What doesn't matter?" Saul let out a long sigh before saying once more "It doesn't matter." "What does matter?" Saul met Ananias's stare. "That's a good question." With that, Saul closed his eyes. Ananias looked out over the cliff, along the river to the horizon before leaving Saul to rest.