“I want you to have this. It was my father’s. It’ll bring you luck.” Samson placed the silver cross in the frightened man’s hand.
“Is this why you’re here?” asked the man.
Men removed bloody bodies that lay beyond the gates, and servers refilled wine glasses. His mother wore the same perfume as the ladies in the crowd.
The gates went up. The lions came out first.
“It’ll be over soon,” he said. The afternoon sun cast a shadow on Samson’s face as he took a last look at his world.