The 30 pure silver coins were nowhere to be found. The cheap production, triggered by too much plastic and thin cardboard, betrayed itself in a crude manner. Everything seemed to be sewn with a white thread, literally. He thought opportunistically that His own betrayal had become a half-measure, played out in a small and impartial theater, pointless to the futile cause. What’s the use of suffocating myself now under the guise of a pseudo-drama? I could make a meta-cross with just 2 fingers. The third one could possibly indicate the direction of salvation or maybe the Self. Amen. Bis !