Surrounded by bright lights and white lamps, the church altar was a prototype of heaven able to bring the word elaborate to mind. The altar a large stage elevated by six steps and carefully plastered with Italian marbles, in the middle of the stage stood a podium with fine lines carved from cedar. The ten thousand square feet cathedral was surrounded by pillars wrapped in purple linens.
With the heavy July rain beating on the aluminum roof, the cathedral lights gave off a melancholic glow, silent against the rains rhythm, only disturbed by the hushed voices in the front pew.
A baritone voice like trombone and a mellow giggle
The priest, also the church founder sat with his slender hands pressed to his laps and brown eyes lit immersed in his companion and leaning in occasionally.
His companion had wild hair and red lipstick clashing against her dark skin and peach dress looked like she was in her early twenties. Words rolled of her lips easily
“It doesn’t make you a swindler, epiphanies come at different points in life. You only have to be true to yourself and then” she stopped mid-sentence to stare at her shoes.
The priest stared lost in thought, only hearing her words.
He had always experienced glitches, breaks in his faith but none had lasted as long as this. It simply no longer made any sense, how much his soul was worth, the lonely road to eternal joy and the defensible atrocities committed by avid believers. The last straw had been his visit to the widow who lost her children in the explosion, how the words he said to her didn’t mean anything to him

“God has a reason”


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