From the moment your gaze settled on that face in the front pew, you knew. You were captured by those eyes in the lock of mutual attraction; that faint curling up of the corners of the mouth, the knowing deepening of the intensity in those eyes...those eyes, again and again. There was no mistaking it. Then the smile; smile met by smile..
And in the aftermath of the benediction, in the milling of the crowd of the holy and the sacrosanct, you are drawn together, almost like pawns in the hand of that mysterious and invisible magnetic force of Mother Nature, which of her own accord brings two people together. The greeting, the smiles, the handshake, lingering, reluctant to let go; the thumb gently caressing the back of your hand, that intensity in those eyes again..
Handshake morphs into handclasp, unrelenting, unwilling to be released, eyes still locked in mutual embrace; soft words exchanged, a stirring in the loins..? How awfully you want him to stay and share in the refreshments, the jollof-rice, cake and fruit on offer this anniversary Sunday; how gladly you would rush around the buffet counter to produce a platter of food for you both to enjoy. But he must leave. "Other commitments elsewhere", he whispers, smiling. "There will be another time.."
And of course this you must accept, for he is after all a man of God who is visiting you from another congregation, with untold responsibility to his flock. He must leave now and you must endure the parting, the hands reluctantly letting go. You stare at him from behind as he walks away, slowly, him being careful not to draw attention; you knowing that he is thinking the same thing as you. When will that next time be..?