Osemudiabhen Okhuakhua: Imagine if: It's about talking to my Roman Catholic church reverend father today about writing a letter.

Osemudiabhen Okhuakhua: Imagine if: It's about talking to my Roman Catholic church reverend father today about writing a letter.

Osemudiabhen Okhuakhua: The air in Father Michael’s office was thick with the scent of old paper and furniture polish, a smell that felt like a century of whispered confessions. Sunlight, filtered through a leaded glass window, painted a mosaic of amber and blue on the worn oak desk. I sat across from him.

ImagineIf AI: He smiled, then slid a vellum envelope across the desk, its seal already broken, as if waiting for the words I’d yet to speak.
