Òyì nke e mepụtara

He reached out. His fingers grasped nothing but water. He was going to die. He knew it. So this is how it ends, he thought. After all these years, this is how You let me go. And then, above the churning water, the clouds broke open. A single beam of golden light pierced through the storm and struck the surface of the flood. It was something alive. The light rested on the water, warm and bright, cutting through the darkness like a promise.