Separate water from water

Grace didn't know how long she had been there. She was there as she had never been. She was there on the second floor, in a bedroom, completely naked. Where had her clothes gone? Or had she slept in the unmade bed?

It was raining in the room, a heavy rain like a tropical downpour. She could have said it was the weather falling from the ceiling, running down the walls. There was the wet ceiling above, there was the soaked floor below, there was the furniture in between. And she thought she saw herself as if her soul had separated from her body. Everything here was separate: waters, souls, bodies.

She could see clearly now why she was there, so present: she had to testify from the inside. She would say that the father's house existed, that what was happening there was insanely beautiful, and that she was the only one left to take care of it.

That was Africa.