THE CHRONICLES OF GOD: BOOK 1 (Our Father)

CHAPTER 2

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'Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice, for they shall be satisfied.'
~Mathew 5:6
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'A day begins a story.' - Anonymous

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The blaring sound of the alarm clock jolted Kodjo out of a sweat-drenched slumber.

Gasping for breath, he reached across and slammed his fist a little too harshly on the alarm clock, wincing as it shattered to pieces on the ground.

Sighing, he raised himself from the bed and gingerly picked up the shattered remains of the clock. He looked at the pieces with something akin to regret for, that was the third one this week and it was only Tuesday.

'I probably should start buying more robust alarm clocks, built to withstand rough manhandling by people who didn't appreciate being woken up this early in the morning,' he thought sheepishly as he flung the pitiful remains into the trash can.

He walked over to the terrace doors and flung it wide open. He stepped out and took in a deep breath of fresh air to try and calm his still racing heart. The faint sounds of car horns and sirens floated up to him as he looked down on the slowly waking city. He couldn't help the fond smile that formed slowly across his face.

It was times like this that reminded him of how much he loved this beautiful city. Yes, it was more than a little dirty, polluted, cruel, and almost always packed with traffic, both human and vehicular, but it was home, his home and he wouldn't trade even a single grimy cobblestone or a grubby beggar for anything in the world. For it was all these and so much more that made Accra his home.

The breath of fresh air, though calming his racing heart, did nothing however to dispel the remnants of the nightmare that trailed him into the waking world. He turned away from the terrace and made his way  into the bathroom.

Pulling the shower curtains aside, he stepped beneath the shower. The piercingly cold water cascaded down his back, loosening the tensed muscles.

He tried to call up the memory of the nightmare that had been intermittently plaguing his sleep for the past few months.

It was always the same, no variation whatsoever. It was always darkness. A kind of absolute, blank, cold, impregnable, vast darkness. A kind of uncannily sentient darkness which seemed to rather banish light or more appropriately snuffle it. A kind of darkness he had never experienced and doubted existed anywhere in this or any other universe.

The darkness seemed alive. It wasn't breathing or moving but completely still. Its stillness did nothing however to belie the fact that this strange darkness was alive and what's more appeared to be watching him. A chilling fact that never failed to raise goosebumps along his arms and send shivers down his spine.

'I must be going crazy. How could something as intangible as darkness be alive and what's more intelligent.'

Shaking his head as if to somewhat banish such craziness from his brain he finished washing up, turned off the shower, and stepping out of the stall proceeded to dry himself. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he brushed his teeth and dressed for work.

Done with his morning rituals he looked particularly sharp in his sleek black suit, a black tie, and a shiny black Rolex watch to match. Feeling pleased with himself he strode to the kitchen to fill his thermos with pitch-black coffee. He rarely ate breakfast at home during workdays.

He left his apartment with his coffee-filled black thermos in his right hand and his black briefcase in his left. He took the elevator down to the underground parking lot where he quickly slid into his car.