|The minister (standard:Psychological fiction, 1424 words)|
|Author: jopoguerrero||Added: Sep 20 2008||Views/Reads: 1818/1022||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
The Bodies of Christ flew like a flurry of snow as Donna suddenly pulled Paolo to her deep, passionate kiss. The broken communion line gave out quelled shrieks, hallowed curses and elaborate murmurs – all imploring hell's wrath instead of heaven's mercy. Paolo let go of the ciborium – it clanked loudly on the marble floor – as he gave in to the ravenous lips and searching tongue of Donna. More than six months ago, Donna Naldoza went home to Laoag for the summer. She wanted to have a long break before she gears up for her senior thesis at the Philosophy Department in UP Diliman. As she had planned, her vacation went soothingly smooth and light – until she saw Paolo at the Saint William's Cathedral. Paolo Guevarra was a math professor, but he took time to serve in the holy mass every afternoon. He was pushing forty, yet his penetrating dark brown eyes and toothy smile preserved his boyish handsomeness – amplified by his white and neatly-pressed lay minister's garb. “Body of Christ,” Paolo whispered as he offered the host to Donna. She was astounded, speechless, and her eyes were locked on the minister's face. “Body of Christ,” he smilingly repeated. Donna suddenly regained herself and answered, “A – Amen!” Embarrassed, she hastily took the communion by the hand then left the line. Donna hurriedly went to the farthest kneeler. But even before she fell down to her knees, she had already fallen madly in love to a servant of God. She cried – silently, painfully – up to the final blessing. After the mass, Donna tensely waited for Paolo at the pathway to the lay ministers' nook. She did not really know why she was doing this, but her heart kept pressing and pushing her; her reason was badly torn and beaten. Her pulse quickened when she saw him approached the gate. “Oh thanks God, he is alone. But, but....What now?....God, oh God, here he is now!....What now, Lord?” she muttered as she unknowingly bit her nails. Paolo beamed at her, “Oh, hello miss beautiful! Thank you for attending the mass this afternoon. May I know your name, please? I'm Paolo, Paolo Guevarra, at your service.” He offered a handshake. “I'm Donna, Sir....Donna Naldoza,” she tremblingly accepted his hand. “Sir, I'm...I'm very sorry for the confusion I created during the communion. I'm very sorry, really – ” “Oh, don't worry about that,” Paolo softly said. “You did not cause any problem at all. Actually, it's a blessing that you have time for the mass.” “Look, Sir.....I still want to make up....can I....can I invite you for a late afternoon snack, please?” Donna said. “Thank you very much, but you don't have to do that, my dear. It was really my mission to serve in the mass,” Paolo explained. “Sir, please, please, please...” Donna insisted with her hands tightly clasped. “Okay, okay,” Paolo laughingly said. “But with two conditions: it's my treat and don't call me Sir, just Paolo.” Donna felt more than heaven when they entered the nearest Chinese restaurant – they looked like a father-daughter team, but she really wished for a different impression. They enjoyed their congee as they exchanged notes. She is a university scholar at UP. She plans to dissect theocracy in her thesis. She wants to take up law after philosophy, and top the bar. She Click here to read the rest of this story (114 more lines)
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