The music raged on. I was in church. Yes, i looked upon their smiling faces.
'What on earth gives them such joy?' I mused.
I took a seat in one of the plastic chairs, the West African sun blazed in it's full strength. Rivulets of sweat cooled my skin. I looked surprised. The preachers held me in awe. They were like mobile Bibles, well all was well that day. Church closed, i wished to be like them. A preacher
YOU ARE READING
Throes of a Dying Soul
Non-FictionI baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son and of the Holy Spirit. That was all I remember, my sins, my secret sins all came back to me in an instant. I had to confess them but I could not... I walked out of the stream knowing for the rest o...
