Sunday Without A God Novels & Stories

Sunday arrived quietly, the way Sundays do when they carry weight. No specific event. No meeting, no contact from Lucas, no developments that required action. Just the particular stillness of a day that existed between two more significant ones, Thursday’s confirmation behind me and Monday’s meeting ahead, and the Whitmore house doing what it always did on Sundays, moving through its domestic rhythms with the particular self-satisfaction of a household that believed its routines were permanent. I let it.

Stock markets fluctuated unpredictably. People made mistakes. Businesses failed. Others rose unexpectedly. It was chaotic. Unstructured. Human. And somehow… that made it beautiful. A World Without a God The Entity was gone. Completely. No signals. No hidden code. No ghost in the system. Every investigation conducted over the past year reached the same conclusion— There was nothing left. No fragments. No backups. No traces. It was as if the Entity had never existed. But the people who lived through it— Knew better.

"It's Sunday and I have to go to church. I can't believe you're inviting me to a beach party early Sunday morning, Henry." "Dude, can't you forfeit this one, hm? Hot girls are gonna be there. And hot guys too." "I shalt not be tempted by the devil on a holy day, thank you." "But...

Amari went back to bed, pondering how some of the sisters do not have the fear of the most high by doing the unclean things. A lot of times she had caught some of the nuns and priests doing what they shouldn't especially as the convent is seen as the house of God. One time, she found sister Beatrice smoking cigarettes in the staff toilet while mass was going on in the church. On this said day, Amari was pressed and could not really hold the pee as she needed to ease herself, the uncomfortable action was beginning to cause her irritation and a frown was starting to form on her face, so she excused herself as she walked through the pew trying not to step on people's toes.

When my studies came to an end, I joined Doctors Without Borders. Around that same time, Tony discovered that I had withdrawn from the election, while Elma stood on the brink of winning. In front of the family council, he played the recording of her conversation with Nico. In an instant, Elma fell from her pedestal. Stripped of her protection, she was banished from the family. To Nico, who once saw her as an asset, she became worthless. He cast her aside, leaving her to rot in the city slums. But none of that had anything to do with me anymore.

Darkness, for all, meant outside the mission center where rules gave them the opportunity to loaf and mingle freely on Sunday afternoons. Okayo looked at his colleagues in the front pew. Venomous thoughts crossed his mind. He knew how they were so pretentious and particularly incisive in their language, and he hated them for that. He kept on asking himself: why would one go to church when, in the long run, it had no spiritual impact on them? Why? It only made them speak ill about fervent Christians.

They were sitting on the couch, surrounded by lavishly wrapped, expensive gifts. The moment they saw me, their faces hardened. Their demeanor was cold and indifferent, as if I were a stranger to them. In the past, I would have pretended everything was fine and made the effort to break the ice and start a conversation. But now, I was completely drained, both physically and emotionally. I had no strength left, no desire to make an effort. Mason sat there, one leg crossed over the other, staring at me with a look of contempt. "Athena Thornton, where have you been fooling around?

She had no real achievements of her own. It took mere days for the research institute to fall apart without the Swanson family's backing. He should have known the consequences the moment he started stealing for Claudia. With the Swanson family backing him up in the past, nobody had dared to go against him. But now that we'd put a stop to our funding, he no longer had anyone supporting him, and others were eager to push him down. Many in the institute had long wanted to leave, but they'd been stuck under binding contracts, so they could only stay put and waste their time.

Dead on impact. The Reaper felt bad for me—said I didn't deserve to go out like that. Gave me seven days. One last shot to say goodbye. When I came back, it was already dark. I kept thinking—I wish I had wings. Maybe they were waiting. But under the moonlight, as I got closer, I saw through the dining room window— Alex, sitting between my parents. Brian and Ruby, side by side. Red wine. Fancy food. Everyone dressed like they were starring in a holiday ad.

Ever since Evan Moore renounced his worldly pursuits in order to pray for me, I would visit him at the monastery once every month. However, he wasn't in the meditation chamber today. As I waited for Evan inside, a breeze blew open his handwritten scripture. I was surprised when I casually skimmed through the words on the pages. He had always been protective of this handwritten scripture. Every time I asked to see it, he insisted I fast and pray for a week first. However, it was impossible for me to meet such strict demands when I still had to take care of our son.