“Jamie! Wake up,” she whispered urgently, shaking my shoulder. “Do you hear them?”
Half asleep, I groaned. “Hear what?”
“The three ladies. They’re preaching the message of repent again.”
She pulled back the curtains and peered out into the soft dawn light, her eyes searching the street with the intensity of someone expecting revelation. I lay there, still foggy with sleep, straining my ears.
“Repent!” came the cry. High-pitched. Shrill. Somewhere in the distance.
Continued on Substack. Click here to read…
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