In times of hardship and distress, similar to those he was going through, the writer had always found some peace in the clamour of life by visiting churches.
This day was no different, his life was filled with the torment of debts he couldn’t pay and worries about his health https://disqus.com/home/discussion/channel-writingworld/carry_the_fight_on/ .
The history of churches had been an interest of his since his teens, at one time he did think he should have become a priest as he can empathise with people because he’s been through a lot.
His friends and family had grown more worried since the move. Everyone thought he was coping well with the changes in his life, what they didn’t realise is that this only showed what a good actor he had become over the years; in reality, he was not coping well.
As he walked up the path to the church, he saw the doors were closed, and there was no sound.
He quietly walked around the side of the church examining the graves and weeping for the loss of young lives.
When he turned the corner at the opposite end of the church to the clock tower, he swore he heard the organ playing.
This was the middle of the day and the middle of the week – it could have been someone practising for a service – but why did he only hear a few notes and only at that end of the building?