Hijacked! | Parables Of Jesus

HlJACKED!

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David swore, thumping the driver`s wheel with his palm angrily. Smoke driIted up in a
thin tendril Irom the exhaust pipe oI his oIIicially messed up car. More speciIically, something
had messed up his tires. But it was dark outside, and call him a wimp all you wanted, he wasn`t
going to step one Ioot out oI the car Ior Iear oI being attacked by some Iorsaken creature oI the
night. Being stranded on a deserted road in the middle oI the night, the nearest city miles away,
and no cell phone reception was a good set-up Ior a gory slasher Ilick.
His car`s headlights shed twin beams on the long stretch oI road in Iront oI him,
reIlecting oII the dust that rose Irom the pavement. Inside the car was the Iuzzy white noise with
a mix oI two completely diIIerent songs, which he only kept on to drown out the solitude;
outside the car was Ioreboding heavy silence. He Ielt saIe as long as lights lit up his dashboard
and sound crackled through the radio. But he couldn`t wait until morning and he couldn`t leave
his car, even iI he gathered himselI enough to step one Ioot into the darkness.
So David continued to swear and hit the steering wheel, staring at the asphalt beIore him.
But something sent his heart climbing up his throat: stepping out oI the darkness into the light oI
the headlight was tall Iigure with a hooded sweatshirt. Everything the Iigure wore was black,
including the cloth pulled taught under its eyes. It was looking straight at him, a crowbar in his
right hand and Iirearm in his leIt, rounding the side oI the car. Two other Iigures in similar outIits
stepped out oI the darkness on either side oI the car. David`s knuckles went white as he gripped
the steering wheel. It occurred to him that they might`ve been the reason his tires were ruined.
The Iirst one, the tallest and probably the leader oI this posse, leaned over so that his eyes
and David`s were level, and rapped the side oI his handgun against the car door. David kept his
eyes Iorward, reIusing to look him in the eye.
'Hello, in there,¨ it called mockingly. Its voice was very human, but its intention David
knew all too well Irom the news. 'I know you can hear me, kid,¨ the Iigure in black taunted.
One oI his henchmen, a slightly shorter man, shiIted his weight Irom Ioot to Ioot impatiently.
'II it`s money you want, I`ll give you my credit card. Please, please don`t hurt me.¨
'Not good enough,¨ the thieI said impatiently. 'We both know you can just cancel a
credit card with just one phone call. Step out oI the car, please, I`m short on time.¨
David made no move to comply with the veiled man. He`d never been made clear on
what to do in this kind oI situation, so he just did what he thought would get him back to his
Iamily tomorrow. David told him to go perIorm a physical impossibility.
'Oh, so it`s the hard way, is it?¨ The man raised something in his hand - the crowbar -
and punched a hole in the window, raining glass on David, who moved his arm to cover his Iace.
The man slammed the window two more times, moving as Iast as possible beIore David could do
anything. He dropped the crowbar, and shoved his gloved hand through the window Ior the
locking mechanism as the metal stick clattered against the pavement. David undid the seat belt
and tried to scramble into the passenger`s seat, but one oI the hijacker`s associates smiled behind
his black bandanna mask, waving his Iirearm to send a message: no going through this door.
David writhed in the seat and tried to get into the back oI the car, but a Iist came Irom behind and
grabbed him by the back oI his jacket and threw him Irom the car.
David landed on his back, the wind knocked out oI him. He`d slammed the back oI his
head against the cold, hard pavement and stars blotted out his vision. Something slammed
against the side oI his head, whether it was the side oI a handgun or a crowbar he couldn`t tell,
and his hand Ilew up to the wound, which radiated burning pain. David groaned as a Ioot
connected with his rib, hard. Soon it had become clear that all three men were beating him, and
the idea that this could go on Iorever had him screaming Ior someone to help, but no such help
came. One Iinal blow to the head sent him Ialling into inIinite unconsciousness.
David awoke at the Iirst rays oI dawn, Ieeling instantly hit with pain that seared like a
thousand hot skewers punching through his body. He liIted his hand to his scalp, and as his
Iingertip touched the warm, wet mat oI hair, he Ielt like he`d been hit by a train. He moaned and
tried to take in his surroundings. His back was pressed against an incline oI dirt, and so were his
legs, as iI he were slumped in a chair that had Iallen over. He tried to prop himselI up on his
elbows, but his bones screamed their condemnation, so he slumped back.
David saw his car in his peripheral vision - Ior he couldn`t turn his head - had been
pushed oII to the shoulder oI the road. All the windows were punched through, and the body had
been banged up really bad. Smoke smoldered Irom under the hood. What was their purpose, iI
not taking the car? They`d leIt him here to die so that he couldn`t cancel his credit card or
something?
Then he saw it: a big green van driving by in the opposite direction his car Iaced. His
heart soared, knowing he`d be rescued. But it drove by without even slowing down to look at
him. He groaned and tried to move again, but it was impossible.
Some time later, as the sun was halIway to midday, he saw another car, small and white.
He gathered enough energy to raise his hand, and knew it worked: the car pulled over and a man
in a business suit stepped out. The man shoved a cell phone in his breast pocket with a scowl and
walked up to the ditch David had been leIt in.
'Are you okay, sir?¨ he asked halIway to the ditch. David tried to move his arm again,
but he was spent.
'I can`t seem to get a signal out here. Don`t worry, I`m going to drive up to the nearest
town and see iI I can Iind anyone to come over and help you. Don`t worry,¨ the man said again,
sizing up David and looking like he was trying to hold down his breakIast. The man went back to
his car and drove away. As he saw the car drive away, David wondered iI the man would hold
true to his promise. It had become very hot out, and the heat exaggerated his pains. AIter a
minute or so, he Iound he could lean Iorward.
Something was horribly wrong in his back and his ribcage, but he managed to crawl out
oI the ditch. Another car drove by, but again, iI the driver noticed, they didn`t show as much.
David`s newIound energy didn`t last long, and soon he was laying on his back at the side oI the
road again.
It was noonish and blazing hot when the IiIth car drove by. But, unlike any oI the
previous, the driver slammed on their brakes right in Iront oI David, and the driver stepped out.
The man wore white, and.
David was in no condition to do so much moving around, and unconsciousness enveloped
him in blackness again.
He woke up Ior the second time that day, this time Iinding himselI under a blanket in the
backseat oI a car. He groaned and shiIted against the beige seats. The driver looked around and
smiled at David over his shoulder. 'You are awake, I see. Feeling better?¨ he asked in a middle
eastern accent.
David nodded and shiIted again. He was Ieeling a lot better, so he sat up.
'Where are we?¨ He asked, disoriented.
'Pulling into a hotel so you can rest,¨ was all he got beIore the man parked and stepped
out oI the car.
When the man - a Muslim, he`d admitted - returned Irom paying Ior a room, he helped
David all the way to the room and had him rest on the bed. David mumbled his thanks.
'I regret I cannot stay with you,¨ the man admitted, 'but I will be back tomorrow to
check up. Until then, please get rest. II you need anything, the manager has my credit card
inIormation. I do not know iI they Iit, but I had a spare change oI clothes in my car. You`re
welcome to change, or, when you are Ieeling up to it, you can go out and buy more. Good day,¨
he added, then leIt with a nod.
AIter a Iew good hours oI rest, David woke up. He ordered a large pizza Ior dinner,
changed into the other clothes, and watched TV. He noticed there were a lot oI rips on the shirt,
but very little blood. He looked down at his chest to see wounds, almost completely healed
already. He threw the old clothes in the trash and dug into the pizza sitting on the bed aIter
popping open a soda. He moved his hand to set his can oI Coca-Cola on the nightstand, but his
hand bumped into something resting on the small table. David stopped as he recognized what it
was: an old New International Version leather-bound Bible.
NoTc To THc HcAocn
The Holy Bible is Iull oI parables - about IiIty oI them, in
Iact. Hifacked' is a modern re-telling oI one oI the most Iamous
and reIerenced-to ones: The Good Samaritan.
What most people don`t realize is the signiIicance oI the
Samaritan` part. The original story was set in a time in which
Jews and Samaritans weren`t on the best terms - much like
Americans and Muslim were aIter the horriIic events oI 9/11,
which is why I set the story about three weeks aIter it.
Some people say that re-telling a parable is a disgrace to
God`s book, but I say the opposite: this is exactly the type oI thing
He would want His servant to do: make the parables clear to
today`s culture by writing the symbols in a modern way.
II anything about this story was conIusing or doesn`t line
up with your view oI Christianity, please Iind someone to talk to at
your local church. II you don`t own one, you don`t need to go to
the nearest bookstore to get a copy oI the Bible - you can just get
an iPhone app or Google online bible`. The parable that Hifacked'
was based on can be Iound at http://www.biblegateway.com/, Luke
10:25-37.
AaouT THc AuTHon
The original author oI The Parable of the Good Samaritan
was known on Earth as the homeless, penniless son oI a small-time
carpenter who was known Ior pissing oII the local church leaders,
doing the impossible, being the nicest guy on Earth, and, when the
situation called Ior it, telling a good story. He thinks you`re one
cool dude and wants to get to know you personally.
AaouT THc ScnvANT
Curtis Lyon is a Iollower oI Christ who lives in central
Indiana with his Iamily. He is currently working towards a degree
in creative writing, and possibly another, more practical major.
He`s constantly working on other things like novels, short Iiction,
and not Iailing English class. You can catch up with Curtis on
twitter: ¸therealcurtlyon.
HIJACKED!
October 1
st
, 2001
3 Weeks after 9/11


David swore, thumping the driver`s wheel with his palm angrily. Smoke driIted up in a
thin tendril from the exhaust pipe of his officially messed up car. More specifically, something
had messed up his tires. But it was dark outside, and call him a wimp all you wanted, he wasn`t
going to step one foot out of the car for fear of being attacked by some forsaken creature of the
night. Being stranded on a deserted road in the middle of the night, the nearest city miles away,
and no cell phone reception was a good set-up for a gory slasher flick.
His car`s headlights shed twin beams on the long stretch of road in front of him,
reflecting off the dust that rose from the pavement. Inside the car was the fuzzy white noise with
a mix of two completely different songs, which he only kept on to drown out the solitude;
outside the car was foreboding heavy silence. He felt safe as long as lights lit up his dashboard
and sound crackled through the radio. But he couldn`t wait until morning and he couldn`t leave
his car, even if he gathered himself enough to step one foot into the darkness.
So David continued to swear and hit the steering wheel, staring at the asphalt before him.
But something sent his heart climbing up his throat: stepping out of the darkness into the light of
the headlight was tall figure with a hooded sweatshirt. Everything the figure wore was black,
including the cloth pulled taught under its eyes. It was looking straight at him, a crowbar in his
right hand and firearm in his left, rounding the side of the car. Two other figures in similar outfits
stepped out oI the darkness on either side oI the car. David`s knuckles went white as he gripped
the steering wheel. It occurred to him that they might`ve been the reason his tires were ruined.
The first one, the tallest and probably the leader of this posse, leaned over so that his eyes
and David`s were level, and rapped the side oI his handgun against the car door. David kept his
eyes forward, refusing to look him in the eye.
'Hello, in there,¨ it called mockingly. Its voice was very human, but its intention David
knew all too well from the news. 'I know you can hear me, kid,¨ the Iigure in black taunted.
One of his henchmen, a slightly shorter man, shifted his weight from foot to foot impatiently.
'II it`s money you want, I`ll give you my credit card. Please, please don`t hurt me.¨
'Not good enough,¨ the thieI said impatiently. 'We both know you can just cancel a
credit card with just one phone call. Step out oI the car, please, I`m short on time.¨
David made no move to comply with the veiled man. He`d never been made clear on
what to do in this kind of situation, so he just did what he thought would get him back to his
family tomorrow. David told him to go perform a physical impossibility.
'Oh, so it`s the hard way, is it?¨ The man raised something in his hand - the crowbar -
and punched a hole in the window, raining glass on David, who moved his arm to cover his face.
The man slammed the window two more times, moving as fast as possible before David could do
anything. He dropped the crowbar, and shoved his gloved hand through the window for the
locking mechanism as the metal stick clattered against the pavement. David undid the seat belt
and tried to scramble into the passenger`s seat, but one oI the hijacker`s associates smiled behind
his black bandanna mask, waving his firearm to send a message: no going through this door.
David writhed in the seat and tried to get into the back of the car, but a fist came from behind and
grabbed him by the back of his jacket and threw him from the car.
David landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him. He`d slammed the back oI his
head against the cold, hard pavement and stars blotted out his vision. Something slammed
against the side oI his head, whether it was the side oI a handgun or a crowbar he couldn`t tell,
and his hand flew up to the wound, which radiated burning pain. David groaned as a foot
connected with his rib, hard. Soon it had become clear that all three men were beating him, and
the idea that this could go on forever had him screaming for someone to help, but no such help
came. One final blow to the head sent him falling into infinite unconsciousness.

David awoke at the first rays of dawn, feeling instantly hit with pain that seared like a
thousand hot skewers punching through his body. He lifted his hand to his scalp, and as his
fingertip touched the warm, wet mat oI hair, he Ielt like he`d been hit by a train. He moaned and
tried to take in his surroundings. His back was pressed against an incline of dirt, and so were his
legs, as if he were slumped in a chair that had fallen over. He tried to prop himself up on his
elbows, but his bones screamed their condemnation, so he slumped back.
David saw his car in his peripheral vision - Ior he couldn`t turn his head - had been
pushed off to the shoulder of the road. All the windows were punched through, and the body had
been banged up really bad. Smoke smoldered from under the hood. What was their purpose, if
not taking the car? They`d leIt him here to die so that he couldn`t cancel his credit card or
something?
Then he saw it: a big green van driving by in the opposite direction his car faced. His
heart soared, knowing he`d be rescued. But it drove by without even slowing down to look at
him. He groaned and tried to move again, but it was impossible.
Some time later, as the sun was halfway to midday, he saw another car, small and white.
He gathered enough energy to raise his hand, and knew it worked: the car pulled over and a man
in a business suit stepped out. The man shoved a cell phone in his breast pocket with a scowl and
walked up to the ditch David had been left in.
'Are you okay, sir?¨ he asked halIway to the ditch. David tried to move his arm again,
but he was spent.
'I can`t seem to get a signal out here. Don`t worry, I`m going to drive up to the nearest
town and see if I can find anyone to come over and help you. Don`t worry,¨ the man said again,
sizing up David and looking like he was trying to hold down his breakfast. The man went back to
his car and drove away. As he saw the car drive away, David wondered if the man would hold
true to his promise. It had become very hot out, and the heat exaggerated his pains. After a
minute or so, he found he could lean forward.
Something was horribly wrong in his back and his ribcage, but he managed to crawl out
of the ditch. Another car drove by, but again, iI the driver noticed, they didn`t show as much.
David`s newIound energy didn`t last long, and soon he was laying on his back at the side oI the
road again.
It was noonish and blazing hot when the fifth car drove by. But, unlike any of the
previous, the driver slammed on their brakes right in front of David, and the driver stepped out.
The man wore white, and.
David was in no condition to do so much moving around, and unconsciousness enveloped
him in blackness again.

He woke up for the second time that day, this time finding himself under a blanket in the
backseat of a car. He groaned and shifted against the beige seats. The driver looked around and
smiled at David over his shoulder. 'You are awake, I see. Feeling better?¨ he asked in a middle
eastern accent.
David nodded and shifted again. He was feeling a lot better, so he sat up.
'Where are we?¨ He asked, disoriented.
'Pulling into a hotel so you can rest,¨ was all he got beIore the man parked and stepped
out of the car.
When the man - a Muslim, he`d admitted - returned from paying for a room, he helped
David all the way to the room and had him rest on the bed. David mumbled his thanks.
'I regret I cannot stay with you,¨ the man admitted, 'but I will be back tomorrow to
check up. Until then, please get rest. If you need anything, the manager has my credit card
inIormation. I do not know iI they Iit, but I had a spare change oI clothes in my car. You`re
welcome to change, or, when you are feeling up to it, you can go out and buy more. Good day,¨
he added, then left with a nod.
After a few good hours of rest, David woke up. He ordered a large pizza for dinner,
changed into the other clothes, and watched TV. He noticed there were a lot of rips on the shirt,
but very little blood. He looked down at his chest to see wounds, almost completely healed
already. He threw the old clothes in the trash and dug into the pizza sitting on the bed after
popping open a soda. He moved his hand to set his can of Coca-Cola on the nightstand, but his
hand bumped into something resting on the small table. David stopped as he recognized what it
was: an old New International Version leather-bound Bible.



Note to the Reader
The Holy Bible is full of parables - about fifty of them, in
fact. Hijacked! is a modern re-telling of one of the most famous
and referenced-to ones: The Good Samaritan.
What most people don`t realize is the signiIicance oI the
Samaritan` part. The original story was set in a time in which
Jews and Samaritans weren`t on the best terms - much like
Americans and Muslim were after the horrific events of 9/11,
which is why I set the story about three weeks after it.
Some people say that re-telling a parable is a disgrace to
God`s book, but I say the opposite: this is exactly the type of thing
He would want His servant to do: make the parables clear to
today`s culture by writing the symbols in a modern way.
II anything about this story was conIusing or doesn`t line
up with your view of Christianity, please find someone to talk to at
your local church. If you don`t own one, you don`t need to go to
the nearest bookstore to get a copy of the Bible - you can just get
an iPhone app or Google online bible`. The parable that Hijacked!
was based on can be found at http://www.biblegateway.com/, Luke
10:25-37.

About the Author
The original author of The Parable of the Good Samaritan
was known on Earth as the homeless, penniless son of a small-time
carpenter who was known for pissing off the local church leaders,
doing the impossible, being the nicest guy on Earth, and, when the
situation called Ior it, telling a good story. He thinks you`re one
cool dude and wants to get to know you personally.

About the Servant
Curtis Lyon is a follower of Christ who lives in central
Indiana with his family. He is currently working towards a degree
in creative writing, and possibly another, more practical major.
He`s constantly working on other things like novels, short fiction,
and not failing English class. You can catch up with Curtis on
twitter: @therealcurtlyon.

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.

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  including  the  cloth  pulled  taught  under  its  eyes.             what   to   do   in   this   kind   of   situation.HIJACKED!   October  1st.  the  nearest  city  miles  away.  It  was  looking  straight  at  him.     One  of  his  henchmen.     So  David  continued  to  swear  and  hit  the  steering  wheel.  who  moved  his  arm  to  cover  his  face.;   outside  the  car  was  foreboding  heavy  silence.  even  if  he  gathered  himself  enough  to  step  one  foot  into  the  darkness.  Inside  the  car  was  the  fuzzy  white  noise  with   a   mix   of   two   completely   different   songs.  Being  stranded  on  a  deserted  road  in  the  middle  of  the  night.   and  no  cell  phone  reception  was  a  good  set-­up  for  a  gory  slasher  flick.   and   shoved   his   gloved   hand   through   the   window   for   the   locking  mechanism  as  the  metal  stick  clattered  against  the  pavement.  raining  glass  on  David.  refusing  to  look  him  in  the  eye.       shed   twin   beams   on   the   long   stretch   of   road   in   front   of   him.  staring  at  the  asphalt  before  him.   so   he   just   did   what   he   thought   would   get   him   back   to   his   family  tomorrow.  But  he  cou his  car.     The  first  one.   reflecting  off  the  dust  that  rose  from  the  pavement.   The  man  slammed  the  window  two  more  times.   which   he   only   kept   on   to   drown   out   the   solitude.  the  tallest  and  probably  the  leader  of  this  posse.  something   had  messed  up  his   going  to  step  one  foot  out  of  the  car  for  fear  of  being  attacked  by  some  forsaken  creature  of  the   night.   Everything   the   figure   wore   was   black.   But  something  sent  his  heart  climbing  up  his  throat:  stepping  out  of  the  darkness  into  the  light  of   the   headlight   was   tall   figure   with   a   hooded   sweatshirt.  rounding  the  side  of  the  car.   He   dropped   the   crowbar.  Two  other  figures  in  similar  outfits   e  been  the  reason  his  tires  were  ruined.     knew  all  too   well  from   the  news.  leaned  over  so  that  his  eyes    David  kept  his   eyes  forward.     -­  the  crowbar  -­   and  punched  a  hole  in  the  window.  a  crowbar  in  his   right  hand  and  firearm  in  his  left.  2001   3  Weeks  after  9/11         thin  tendril  from  the  exhaust  pipe  of  his  officially  messed  up  car.  moving  as  fast  as  possible  before  David  could  do   anything.  More  specifically.  David  undid  the  seat  belt   .  a  slightly  shorter  man.  David  told  him  to  go  perform  a  physical  impossibility.  He  felt  safe  as  long  as  lights  lit  up  his  dashboard   and  sound  crackled  through  the  radio.  shifted  his  weight  from  foot  to  foot  impatiently.

    but  he  was  spent.his   black   bandanna   mask.     town  and  see  if  I  can  find   sizing  up  David  and  looking  like  he  was  trying  to  hold  down  his  breakfast.   waving   his   firearm   to   send   a   message:   no   going   through   this   door.  he  saw  another  car.  hard.  small  and  white.   feeling   instantly   hit   with   pain   that   seared   like   a   thousand   hot   skewers   punching   through   his   body.  One  final  blow  to  the  head  sent  him  falling  into  infinite  unconsciousness.     Some  time  later.   His   him.   It   had   become   very   hot   out.  but  he  managed  to  crawl  out   of   the   ditch.  if   something?     Then   he   saw   it:   a   big   green   van   driving   by   in   the   opposite   direction   his   car   faced.   Another   car   drove   .  but  it  was  impossible.   David   groaned   as   a   foot   connected  with  his  rib.  and  knew  it  worked:  the  car  pulled  over  and  a  man   in  a  business  suit  stepped  out.     David  landed  on  his  back.  but  his  bones  screamed  their  condemnation.     Something  was  horribly  wrong  in  his  back  and  his  ribcage.   hard   pavement   and   stars   blotted   out   his   vision.   Something   slammed   and   his   hand   flew   up   to   the   wound.  he  found  he  could  lean  forward.   After   a   minute  or  so.  as  the  sun  was  halfway  to  midday.  Smoke  smoldered  from  under  the  hood.   head   against   the   cold.   He  gathered  enough  energy  to  raise  his  hand.  He  groaned  and  tried  to  move  again.  but  a  fist  came  from  behind  and   grabbed  him  by  the  back  of  his  jacket  and  threw  him  from  the  car.   He   lifted   his   hand   to   his   scalp.   which   radiated   burning   pain.  All  the  windows  were  punched  through.   David  writhed  in  the  seat  and  tried  to  get  into  the  back  of  the  car.       David   awoke   at   the   first   rays   of   dawn.   as   if   he   were   slumped   in   a   chair   that   had   fallen   over.  and   the  idea  that  this  could  go  on  forever  had  him  screaming  for  someone  to  help.  As  he  saw  the  car  drive  away.   and   the   heat   exaggerated   his   pains.   and   as   his   fingerti tried  to  take  in  his  surroundings.  and  so  were  his   legs.  and  the  body  had   been  banged  up  really  bad.  The  man  went  back  to   his  car  and  drove  away.  but  no  such  help   came.  the  wind  knocked  out  of  him.   He   tried   to   prop   himself   up   on   his   elbows.  What  was  their  purpose.  His  back  was  pressed  against  an  incline  of  dirt.  so  he  slumped  back.  The  man  shoved  a  cell  phone  in  his  breast  pocket  with  a  scowl  and   walked  up  to  the  ditch  David  had  been  left  in.  Soon  it  had  become  clear  that  all  three  men  were  beating  him.     David   saw   his   car   in   his   peripheral   vision   -­   -­   had   been   pushed  off  to  the  shoulder  of  the  road.  David  wondered  if  the  man  would  hold   true   to   his   promise.

 so  he  sat  up.       David  was  in  no  condition  to  do  so  much  moving  around.   he  added.       He  woke  up  for  the  second  time  that  day.  you  can  go  out  and  buy  more.   But.  David  mumbled  his  thanks.   He   looked   down   at   his   chest   to   see   wounds.     David  nodded  and  shifted  again.  when  you  are  feeling  up  to  it.  and  the  driver  stepped  out.   changed  into  the  other  clothes.   He   ordered   a   large   pizza   for   dinner.  then  left  with  a  nod.     It   was   noonish   and   blazing   hot   when   the   fifth   car   drove   by.  He  groaned  and  shifted  against  the  beige  seats.   If   you   need   anything.  He  noticed  there  were  a  lot  of  rips  on  the  shirt.   unlike   any   of   the   previous.  The  driver  looked  around  and   smiled  at  David  over  his  shoulder iddle   eastern  accent.     After   a   few   good   hours   of   rest.   almost   completely   healed   already.  He  moved  his  hand  to  set  his  can  of  Coca-­Cola  on  the  nightstand.  he  helped   David  all  the  way  to  the  room  and  had  him  rest  on  the  bed.   but   very   little   blood.     check   up.   please   get   rest.  or.  the  driver  slammed  on  their  brakes  right  in  front  of  David.  but  his   hand  bumped  into  something  resting  on  the  small  table.       .  this  time  finding  himself  under  a  blanket  in  the   backseat  of  a  car.  and  watched  TV.     When  the  man  -­   -­  returned  from  paying  for  a  room.road  again.   David   woke   up.         hotel   out  of  the  car.   He   threw   the   old   clothes   in   the   trash   and   dug   into   the   pizza   sitting   on   the   bed   after   popping  open  a  soda.  He  was  feeling  a  lot  better.  and  unconsciousness  enveloped   him  in  blackness  again.   Until   then.   the   manager   has   my   credit   card   welcome  to  change.  David  stopped  as  he  recognized  what  it   was:  an  old  New  International  Version  leather-­bound  Bible.

   constantly  working  on  other  things  like  novels.   .     up  with  your  view  of  Christianity.       terms   -­   much   like   Americans   and   Muslim   were   after   the   horrific   events   of   9/11.     Some   people   say   that   re-­telling   a   parable   is   a   disgrace   to   God s  book.   more   practical   major.     Note  to  the  Reader     The  Holy  Bible  is  full  of  parables  -­  about  fifty  of  them.  please  find  someone  to  talk  to  at   your  local   church.   which  is  why  I  set  the  story  about  three  weeks  after  it.  in   fact.  when  the   cool  dude  and  wants  to  get  to  know  you  personally.   Hijacked!   is   a   modern   re-­telling   of   one   of   the   most   famous   and  referenced-­to  ones:  The  Good  Samaritan.  Luke   10:25-­37.   y the  nearest  bookstore  to  get  a  copy  of  the  Bible  -­  you  can  just  get   Hijacked!   was  based  on  can  be  found  at  http://www.com/.  and.   and   possibly   another.  penniless  son  of  a  small-­time   carpenter  who  was  known  for  pissing  off  the  local  church  leaders.  being  the  nicest  guy  on  Earth.     About  the  Author     The  original  author  of  The  Parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan   was  known  on  Earth  as  the  homeless.   and   not   failing   English   class.   You   can   catch   up   with   Curtis   on   twitter:  @therealcurtlyon.biblegateway.  He  is  currently  working  towards  a  degree   in   creative   writing.  short  fiction.   doing  the  impossible.   If   you  don t   own  one.       About  the  Servant     Curtis   Lyon   is   a   follower   of   Christ   who   lives   in   central   Indiana  with  his  family.  but  I  say  the  opposite:  this  is  exactly  the  type  of  thing   He   would   want   His   servant   to   do:   make   the   parables   clear   to   today s  culture  by  writing  the  symbols  in  a  modern  way.

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