Void
It felt weird being in the presence of God again. Seven years and nothing had changed. The walls of St. Martha had not aged a day, and the symbol of the cross still hung above the elevated ground, the altar of God. Efua sat quietly in the congregation, staring at him. He still sat there, in the front row beside his wife, with a pair of glasses and a smug look on his face. When she left the church seven years ago, his eyes were perfectly fine. Now, as she watched him struggle to read a verse from his Bible, the same Bible he went about with years ago, she tried to hide a smile. He was getting old. Something about being back caused a lump in her throat. The service took long hours. Or was that how it had always been? She wasn't really sure. She looked at him again and sighed. It was possible that he never thought of her, that he never missed what they had, that he would not recognize her. She had a lot to say to him. With deep breaths and a racing heart, she walked slowly to where h...