SUNDAY CRUSH

Some will tell you that love is brewed anywhere even in public toilets when you have that bullying diarrohea, that statement is true. Every couple thinks theirs was a special way; from wrong numbers to choir members to pubs and just a common passenger on your estate mathree.
It was on of those extra-ordinary Sundays, the ones you wake up feeling touched you think you can change satan back to his angel days. You want to tell the world how good God has been to you, everybody should be heading to church. It reminds me of the days I was a school captain, on such Sundays' I would make sure everybody is in the hall for the Service and making notes on what the speaker was saying. I wish this happens all remaining Sundays of my stay on top of the soil.
Since now days I don't have a Sunday best, I pulled down the last clean pair of trouser, my only white shirt and prepared for church. No more carrying of bibles to church, I never carried any before though. Thanks to Biblical apps supported by even the cheapest android phones.
The service was blessing in its own, am told humilty saved the jews from the cruel decision of Haman the then prime minister of Persia and Media through Modecai. It was touching, I came out a different man, a man willing to change course from Media to Theology and be  reverend. It was a coincidence for the Sunday to be a Father's Day, I gave my last old 50 shilling note that rarely leaves my wallet to our Father. Hoping He will bless my pockets as usual. I left the church empty in pocket but rich at heart and spiritually full.
Sunday afternoons are the worst afternoons in history of man, it reminds you of Monday and tasks ahead. You feel like the weekend should start over again. I was still wondering what to do to 'push time' then I remembered my face was becoming hairy, I needed to see a barber. With a plan in mind and a cousin for company, we left for the barber-shop.
Along the road we made jokes and laughed foolishly like those market women I usually sell my cabbages on market days. From a distance we spotted, our pace changed and we moved faster hoping nothing would come between us. There was this boda guy who looked confused, actually he was, but he saved my day, he chose not to interfere with my wish by going on his way. We followed them closely till we were there. The girls were pretty, the ones you get satisfied when they just tell you their names even if they lie like they tried.
After a long time without rains, God sent the rains from above to make my day a success. From nowhere the rains started and that should be the begining of a story I will tell my kids how I met their mother incase one dares to ask.
When good things happen, its also right to ask yourself when did the rain started beating you. For these are the rains that put smiles on farmers faces and brew love in a neighbours kitchen in their absentia in the name of seeking shelter.