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Pilate’s Wife begins by describing her own hands—soft, pearly‑nailled, like shells from Galilee—and contrasts them with those of a woman she envies. She longs for Rome and a different life. When the Nazarene arrives in Jerusalem, she and her maid slip away from the crowd, disguise themselves, and push through the frenzied masses. She trips, grabs an ass’s bridle, and spots the Nazarene; his face is ugly yet his eyes are “eyes to die for.” That night she dreams of him: his brown hands touch her, nails pierce his palms, blood spreads, and she awakens sweaty, terrified and sexually aroused. She sends a warning note and quickly dresses. The next day she arrives to find the Nazarene crowned with thorns while the crowd shouts for Barabbas. Pontius Pilate looks away, then deliberately washes his perfumed, useless hands. The authorities seize the Nazarene, drag him up to the Place of Skulls, and the wife’s maid knows the rest. She concludes that the Nazarene is not God—“Of course not”—though Pilate believes he is.