On Sunday, there was a light rain in the morning.
The stone pavement in front of the Catholic Church was a little damp, and the sky was clear and bright blue as the breeze blew by.
It is a domed cathedral, snow-white all over, revealing itself as a holy place. Beautiful sculptures can be seen everywhere, colorful glazed windows are decorated, and devout Catholics flock to the church when the holy sound is heard.
It was the first time Chris had ever been to church.
How could he, who had always revered the command of force, believe in such things as religion? So, in his impression, believe in these, either ignorant or guilt-ridden, looking for spiritual support.
I don't know which one Nina belongs to.
He arrived a little earlier and watched from a distance until he saw a white figure appear and his eyes tightened.
It's Nina coming.
Today she wore a pure white tunic and a pure white coat, like an ethereal and holy maiden. She carefully stepped on the green stone pavement and reverently walked into the Catholic Church.
Chris followed in.
Then he took a seat in the row behind Nina.
She had apparently bathed in the morning, having heard that the service needed to be kept clean and free from any impurities. No wonder she was a little late this morning.
Closer, he could even smell her body, if anything, the fragrance of the bath.
The prayer in the church began with her hands crossed and clasped, her head bowed in devotion.
The time was long and the sultry sounds were driving people to sleep. chris felt like he was falling asleep waiting. And she didn't move a muscle, she kept praying. Finally, he slumped back in his chair, propped up an arm, propped up his temples, bored out of his mind.
How long will it take?
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