Judas would never forget the events of that night. It was the beginning. But that beginning was an awfully long time ago, and Judas wondered just how much longer he’d have to fight the good fight for. It had been so long now that Judas wondered if he’d just been forgotten. It was highly unlikely. God didn’t forget, and you had to work damned hard before he forgave. Judas had struggled with the idea of being forgiven, because his crime was so heinous. And what was forgiveness, really? It was stuff that was peddled from the pulpits on Sunday mornings by snake oil salesmen and quacks. Then again, he needed to hope for something. He had betrayed God’s only son, and then the r****e had carried him up to the top of the hill and crucified the poor chap, placing a crown of thorns on his head and
