They bellowed at the top of their lungs as if to wake the whole neighborhood and let them know that Jesus is King. Even those who were reluctant were now on their way. Streets cluttered with well dressed commuters. Shiny polished shoes, pressed dresses and glowing weaves. Children running about in the church grounds, spilling onto the congested road. Cars moving slowly through a narrow road. Cars parked on either side. Sun hats and umbrellas. Bright colors. Loud exchanges of greetings through the clamor of church drums and insistent keys.
We could hear the hum of the engines as they trail down the road in single file, revving as they got closer. Black leather coats and denims. Gloves. Hats. Dreadlocks. The bikers were on their way to church too, making a grand entrance that has everyone excited.
At the convenience store next to the church, old men would slowly drift in to buy cigarettes, juice, hot chips, vetkoeks, nursing their hangovers. Next to that, a bar. Sunday morning and some are already having the hair of the dog. Children run about. Stray dogs lazing nearby hoping to get lucky.
A few houses away, another church is already in session. Sunday school children sing for The Lord. I drive by on the way to my place of worship. Wave at the girls at the salon next door, floor filled with extensions as they're already at work.
I'm late again.
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