“Well, I'm a living witness that it's true.”
For the next thirty minutes the room hung on every word that fell from Samantha's glossed lips. Hattie Williams sat stiff on the front row at the end of the pew. Her arthritic knee throbbed with each pound of the drums. The head of her cane rested against her thigh, and the purse filled with Kleenex, mints and a pocket bible sat on the cushion next to her.
Hattie looked up at Samantha in the pulpit and prayed silently. “Lord have mercy on New Testament Cathedral this Sunday morning.”
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The End
Urban Books, LLC
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When Sunday Comes Again Copyright © 2012 Terry E. Hill
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ISBN: 978-1-6016-2354-6
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This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living, or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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