Novel & Cerita Sunday Without A God

I suddenly remember the song called We and Us. I flashed out a smile as I looked beside me. The mug across me remained untouch, but let's just say that you are sitting across me and reminiscing with me. I'll only do this once, so I'll just let myself become delusional even just for once. Perks of being alone. You can do everything without being ashamed or embarrassed.

Or else we were going to cross the line that we were never going to know how to retrieve back our steps. ~~~ SUNDAYS. They are supposed to be filled with joy and laughter. The hymn of joy swirling with the song of cicadas in the air while the kitchen brimmed with mouth-watering scents and everything. Sundays were meant to be holy, fun. But I swear my Sundays were crafted straight in the kitchens of hell by the devil himself. Heck, I hated them with passion,

"Who gave you permission to stand next to that old monster!" "Get down here right now! You're my fiancée!" The absurdity was almost too much. "Apollo, your divine marriage contract says it plain as day. Your wife is Chloe." I raised an eyebrow, my voice dripping with mockery. "You came all the way to the Underworld to find me. Don't you see how ridiculous you look?" "That contract doesn't count!" Apollo slashed the air furiously with his sword. "I am the Sun God! I would never take a lowborn mortal as my wife!"

His wolf claws reach out for me and Colby was quick to push me away from his reach. I stagger back and fall back to the shattered window and like those slow motions acts, I watch things escalate. As I fall I see Shawn and Colby killing Ambrose's men in their wolf forms viciously. I avert my gaze to the beautiful sky above and wonder when will I be in peace. As I am falling I call out to God. 'I am falling' 'your humble servant needs you' 'Please save me 'Save me from this world' 'take me ' 'I am falling'

Chapter 47 Sophia stirred awake to a rare sense of calm. The kind of quiet that didn’t demand anything. Her body felt rested, not stiff from bracing itself for another day. Her thoughts didn’t race ahead or backward. There was no mental checklist demanding her attention, no familiar dread waiting at the edge of consciousness. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, there was nothing urgent, nothing broken. Just stillness. And it felt good. It was Saturday. The kind of Saturday she hadn’t had in years—unstructured and wide open. No meetings. No foundation planning. No obligation to be anyone other than herself. That alone felt like a kind of miracle.

Trevor's voice broke with panic but began slipping away and fading into the distance. … By the time I woke up, it was already the third day. They told me Cyril had been cremated. Today, they were burying his ashes. I had no tears left. I wasn't even there for my son's last journey. I held Cyril's ashes as I walked into the cemetery, my face completely blank. I knew Cyril was gone for good, but I was determined to make Roxanne pay for what she did. The wind at the cemetery was cutting, biting into my skin like blades, but it couldn't come close to the cold I felt inside.

I believed he was the only person who could tell me something tangible about what had happened that Sunday morning, but that would definitely be in another meeting. I always expected death in painful and mysterious ways from the goddess or her cohorts on a daily basis, but was surprised when I always lived to see the next day. I knew all was not well somewhere, though Pastor Alozie’s call had done a lot to calm me. Right now, it was I, Pastor Alozie, Saret Andeki, his fellow prayer warriors and Jesus Christ against the goddess, Ebie initiates and her perfect ‘assistants.’ Somehow, I knew we’d be victorious at the end of the day.

Didn't care that I was pregnant. "When you wake up screaming—does that child ever show up in your dreams?" I stepped back. Calm. Steady. "Memories don't disappear. But my world is my husband and my daughter now. As for people who don't matter?" I shrugged. "I stopped caring a long time ago." I gave him his own words back. "Whatever we had is over. Completely." He staggered back. Face white as a sheet. I was done. I took Adrian's hand, ready to leave.

They were perhaps too afraid of the sickness her parents had. Everyone knew few people survived when they got the sickness. Her parents would be fine, Mary knew that. They had her taking care of them. All those other people who hadn’t made it must have been alone, or maybe the whole family had gotten sick. Mary was convinced that was the case. What bothered her the most was she hadn’t been to church for two Sundays. She couldn’t leave her parents alone for that long. This was something she often worried about. The priest used to say that God took care of those who loved him. He had also said that those who didn’t go to church on Sundays did not love God. What if God thought Mary didn’t love

The god’s form flickered, then disintegrated into streaks of golden energy that rained down across the plains like falling stars. When the light faded, silence fell. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and ash. Sylra stumbled toward us, her hair disheveled, her face pale. “You didn’t kill it,” she said softly. “You scattered it.” I nodded weakly, my whole body trembling. “I know.” Aaron wiped dust from his jacket. “Great. So now instead of one god, we’ve got a thousand tiny ones floating around?” Edward’s hand tightened on mine. “We’ll find them before they reform.”