The Gate Between Us

1. The Towers and the Tents

In the sprawling metropolis of Solaria, two worlds lived side by side—and yet never touched.

On one side stood the glittering skyline: towers of tinted glass and steel, home to CEOs, influencers, and tech moguls. On the other lay the shaded underpass—lined with faded tents, cardboard walls, and whispers of lives forgotten.

Ethan Voss lived on the 41st floor of the Solarium Tower. He was 36, founder of a successful virtual reality company, and worth just over $92 million. His apartment overlooked Unity Park, a place he'd only ever viewed from above.

Every morning, he sipped Ethiopian coffee on his balcony, barely noticing the tents just beyond the trees—except when drone-delivered food was delayed due to “local disruptions.”

He rarely walked. He rarely touched the street.

He didn’t need to.

2. The Man at the Gate

Micah was the kind of person Solaria had learned to walk past.

He had once been a literature professor—sharp-minded, well-spoken, and hopeful. But after a long illness, medical bills, and a broken marriage, he lost everything. He lived now near the park entrance, his wheelchair nestled under the shadow of a broken statue. His Bible, a frayed King James Version, always sat on his lap.

He never begged.

He only said, “Peace to you,” to every passerby. Some returned a nod. Most never looked.

One morning, Ethan descended to street level—not for any noble reason, but because his drone battery had failed.

His polished Oxfords clicked along the pavement as he passed the park. He caught sight of Micah and slowed—curious, maybe, or just annoyed at the smoke from a nearby campfire.

Micah lifted his head. “Peace to you,” he said.

Ethan’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Thanks. You too,” he mumbled, walking on.

It wasn’t a conversation.

But it was the first time they had exchanged words.

3. Small Intersections

Weeks passed.

Ethan returned a few times. Not intentionally, but because his gym route changed.

Micah always sat there—calm, like a monk guarding a forgotten temple. Sometimes humming. Sometimes reading aloud, as if someone were listening.

One morning, Ethan paused.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

Micah looked up. “Luke 16. The rich man and Lazarus.”

Ethan smirked. “Sounds ironic.”

Micah smiled too. “It always is. That’s the point.”

“Let me guess. I’m the rich man?”

Micah chuckled softly. “Only you can say who you are. I just read stories.”

Ethan tilted his head. “I build them—in VR. But real ones rarely sell.”

“They rarely comfort,” Micah replied. “Real ones tend to disturb.”

4. Invitation

Their chats continued. Ethan, perhaps out of guilt or intrigue, brought coffee one day. Micah accepted it with a nod.

“You know,” Ethan said, “you’re more articulate than half the guys in my boardroom.”

Micah replied, “Wisdom doesn’t always follow wealth. And wealth doesn’t always follow wisdom.”

Ethan paused. “You always like quoting Jesus?”

Micah sipped. “Only when it burns. Truth should be like a fire in your bones. Otherwise, it’s just decoration.”

Ethan felt that—though he didn’t say it.

5. Inversion

One night, Ethan dreamt.

He stood on a golden balcony, higher than ever. But below him was fire—raging, endless. Across a vast chasm sat Micah, shining, peaceful, his legs healed, his Bible glowing in his lap.

Ethan called out: “Micah! Tell someone! Warn them!”

Micah shook his head gently. “They have the words already. They don’t want the truth. They want comfort.”

“Then let me cross!” Ethan begged. “Let me make it right.”

Micah's voice echoed: “Between us lies a great gulf. You built it. You ignored me at the gate.”

Ethan awoke in sweat.It was 3:11 AM.

He didn’t sleep the rest of the night.

6. The Interview

Later that week, Ethan gave a tech talk at a global summit. Journalists asked about AI ethics, VR addiction, and the “purpose” of his platform.

He answered like a pro.But something cracked in him. A sentence slipped out unplanned.

“There’s something wrong,” he said, blinking. “We’re simulating meaning, not finding it. I built a world to escape truth—but I think we’re running out of time.”

There was silence.The moderator smiled awkwardly. “A philosophical turn from Mr. Voss today…”The crowd laughed.

Ethan did not.

7. Disappearance.

Ethan went back to the park.But Micah wasn’t there.

Not the next day. Not the one after.

The statue was empty. The blanket folded. The Bible gone.

A street vendor nearby said, “They found him last week. Gone in his sleep. Peaceful, they said.”

Ethan stood there. Still.

Then, slowly, he knelt down at the foot of the statue, pulled out his phone, and ordered two coffees.

8. The Inheritance

week later, Ethan received a brown envelope.

Inside was a note.

“Ethan,

If you're reading this, I’ve crossed the gate.

I left you my Bible. You may think you don’t need it, but maybe you do. Not as a relic, but as a mirror.

Remember this: even the rich man knew Lazarus’ name. But it was too late.

The gospel isn't for the powerful. It's for the ones who choose to kneel.

Peace to you,

Micah”

Ethan closed his eyes. A fire stirred in his bones.

9. The Change

He did not sell his company.

But he changed it.

His next VR experience wasn’t a fantasy escape. It was called “Gate.” A narrative that placed players in the shoes of both the rich man and the beggar—forcing them to confront the story, the chasm, and the call.

the critics were baffled. The public was stunned. It wasn’t fun.

But it was real.

And something in people cracked open.

10. The Memory

Years passed.

Ethan often sat under the statue, now restored and renamed “Micah’s Place.”

Children came there to read. Homeless advocates held clinics. Artists painted murals on the pavement.

And at the base of the statue, carved into the stone, were words Ethan had chosen:

“Peace to you.

Let those who feast remember those who hunger.

For between us all, there is a gate—

And only love can open it.

Final Reflection

This story reimagines the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus in a 21st-century context—blending the material and the spiritual, the comfortable and the suffering, the blind and the broken-hearted. It shows that while money builds towers, only compassion bridges chasms. And that sometimes, the richest man is the one who kneels.