THE HISTORICAL PARLANCE OF THE TWELVE APOSTLES OF JESUS

Previously

…It was a good dust, though, the kind that clung to you like the scent of the sea after a storm, a reminder of where we came from. Simon, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas, Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, Thaddaeus, Simon the Zealot, and myself, Peter. Twelve of us. It still felt like a dream, this life. Just yesterday, it seemed, we were mending nets, haggling over fish prices, our biggest worries the next catch or a coming squall. Now, we were following Him. Jesus. The name itself was a melody, a thunderclap, a whispered secret all at once. He’d chosen us. Not the scholars in the synagogues