The ethereal scent of the burning incense sticks and the smell of freshly boomed flowers around the shrine overpowered Gerald's senses as soon as he walked through the rusty door of the shrine.
The birds were chirping, and the light murmur of the priests chanting prayers hummed the air around the place. Gerald's foot remained midair as he halted at the entrance of the prayer hall. His eyes caught the sight of the people praying in the front.
He scoffed lightly before retreating his advanced foot and turning around. He was the only person who stood outside in the verandah instead of sitting in the prayer hall.
For them, they found God inside the four walls, but for Gerald, he didn't believe in God but only his luck. He was not interested in preserving goodness for his merry afterlife. He wanted to live the life he had gotten by luck to its fullest.
