The true weight of this gift manifested one morning shortly after his feverish dreams which was the goddess's visitation. Nwadiebube woke to find his wife sleeping peacefully beside him. But the blessing had stripped away the comfort of the mundane.
He no longer saw merely the woman he loved, the curve of her shoulder or the rise and fall of her breath. He saw more. His vision pierced through the veil of skin and bone, revealing the shimmering, intricate pulse of her soul.
For Nwadiebube, the world of the living had become a glass house, and he was the only one forced to see what lay beneath.
If that had been the extent of his vision, Nwadiebube might have found peace. But what he saw in the depths of that soul made his blood run cold.
