The church was large, square and dark. The man sat there at one with the building. His feet planted firmly on the floor. His head bowed but raising his chin from time to time as though turning his face toward heaven. The heavy atmosphere matched his soul. Peace reigned. In the somnolent, dusty air, man was one with God.
The door latch clicked. A ray of sunlight preceded the woman with her clacking, birdlike steps. The bustle of the shops clung to her; to the bags she carried, to the quick movement of her head as her gaze darted here and there.
She came to him.. Their auras fused; a strange incongruity, the man, his God, his wife.
Any ideas for a good title? Everything I’ve thought of so far either gives too much away or could be off-putting.