Once upon a time, there was a man, Elijah. A painter, he lived in ancient Christiandom. Many days a week, he worked in the city, and he lived in the city in a house with its back up to the church. Sometimes, when he would have nothing to do in the morning, he would hear the singing and shouting through his wall.
Usually though, Elijah would wake up early and go out to paint. A house or a barn. Sometimes the inside or the outside, and when the building was big (or when Elijah painted slowly and precisely), he would be out late, and sometimes he would return home when the sun had already set.
One day, when Elijah returned particularly late, as he was closing his eyes, he saw on the wall of his room, the hand of God writing. He said nothing as he watched each word form: "Tomorrow, Jessica of Ida and her family's cart will be crushed by a boulder at the market." It was very late, and there was nothing to do, and Elijah was already going to the market tomorrow, so he fell fast asleep, and when he woke up in the morning, there was nothing on the wall.
Elijah went to the market and was buying his vegetables and meats and salts and such. He was so used to it and so tired the previous night, he didn't even think about the warning on the wall, but just when he was about to leave, he heard shouting, a big crash, and commotion at the other end of the market. As he made his way over, to his interest, he realized that Jessica of Ida had died right there under her cart, crushed by a boulder. Though, he didn't stay long as he had work on the days ahead.
As the minutes ebbed to hours, and hours to days, Elijah didn't consider what had happened much. Although he was painting almost every day, and he had hours of time, stroking his brush against the wall in the same way, over and over, he mostly thought about painting and eating and his friends and the other things in his life. Though, when a few weeks had passed by, and he was preparing his laundry, he saw the hand of God again writing on the wall. He finished washing his clothes, and then he saw what God had written: "Tomorrow, little Tommy of Daniel will be playing by the river and be eaten by an alligator."
Elijah was already planning on going to the river tomorrow to fish with his friend, so he thought he might at least see what happens. He fishes all day, throwing nets, and going up and down the river, and as the afternoon sun began to be just a little too warm, he decided to make his way home. Though, as he packed up his things, he heard screaming, and he looked over to see what the fuss was all about. Indeed, the words became the world, and Elijah thought it was interesting.
Time went by as it always does, and Elijah continued on his life. Since this is a quasi-biblical story, the writing appeared a third time, and again Elijah conveniently witnessed the preventable death of an individual.
So Elijah went home, and he went to his room, and he went to the wall which lays against the church, and with him he carried his paint and his brushes, and he painted over the wall, and on that wall, the hand of God never wrote another word, and Elijah lived a long and happy life. He grew to be an old man, and he even lived in many places, and for the rest of his life, nothing interesting ever happened to him again.