Zimri

(Context: 1 Kings 16:10)

I am the king of nothing. This castle is mine, this crown, this goblet. But all this, my actions, my risks, my sacrifices are worth nothing. This castle is empty, silent; this crown feels like lead, feels like thorns; this goblet, filled with the strongest liquor, tastes of poison, tastes of rust. And the words of the prophet, the words of our god ring like mockery as they echo in my soul.

Ahab

(Context: 1 Kings 18:20.)

Jezebel cries when I hold her, late at night. She trembles and whispers, even as she sleeps. In the language of Tyre, the language that I learned when I found that I loved her, not long after we were wed, I hear her words repeating in a fearful, panicked stream: “My god is dying.”