+TYPED OUT-

+MEANINGFUL MEANINGLESS-

Monday took off her boots and hurried to the kitchen, "God bless you, Luce," the woman said as she found coffee and two pain aux chocolates.
She gulped down the coffee, ate the viennoiseries, and served herself a glass of orange juice. It wasn't enough. The woman made herself some quaker oats; gosh, she was hungry. She had the impression of having done a year's biking exercise.

Once she finished eating, Monday headed to the living room and fell on her sofa like a walrus on the sand.

"Write this scene."

The man had meticulously planned their evening. Monday didn't even have time for a replay as her phone rang.

"Ẹ n lẹ, [hello]

"Luce."

"I thought you wouldn't sleep out?"

"I can explain," Monday lamented.

"Uh, huh, duro [stop]. We both you can't. Kosi wahala, babe [no problem, babe] I'm not your mother."

"Luce, I'm in trouble. I don't want to see that man again."

Her cousin shook her head at the other end of the phone, "why what did he do?"

"It's not what he did, but what he won't do. Luce, that man won't do anything for me. He can't love me and will definitely not want to marry me or have kids. All of this is pointless; I don't want to waste my time."

"Monday, you barely know the man. Give him a chance. I don't know why I don't have a bad feeling concerning him."

"Luce, you don't get it. He didn't even ask for one. I don't want to see him again."

Monday thought of the moment when she stood at his suites' door. She desired to hear that there was some sort of perspective to look forward to, but Kenneth failed to bring water to her well. The man only had to tell her he wished for something more.

The chemistry was sure between the two, yet Kenneth didn't schedule love on his side. As for Monday, she couldn't plan without confirmation. Instead of leaving everything on standby, the woman preferred to cancel the program. She foresaw how the love would be pushed back and postponed week after week. 

What was she saying?

What was this sentiment that overwhelmed her?

The feeling was exactly why she hated her romantic nature. It made her believe in lost causes. As if she Kenneth could live a true romance.

"Monday, are you sure you won't regret it?"

"No, Luce, I'm doing my mental health a favor right now. I don't want to be there weighing ounces of he likes me, and he likes me not sentences on either side."

"Listen, my break is over. We'll talk about tonight, okay?" Luce said, cutting short on the conversation.

"Hmm, okay, bisous."

"Bisous ma belle."

They hung up. Luce began to walk back to the building when she heard her name. She turned and bumped into a man.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Luce."

The woman looked up, "pastor, what are you doing here?"

Jacob smiled, "I'm visiting some patients. There are a few in the HIV/AIDS ward. What are you doing here?"

"Eh, I'm a nurse here. I work in the HIV/AIDS ward."

Jacob's eyes widened, "Oh, really."

The woman nodded, and they smiled at one another. It was the first time Jacob saw Luce outside the church, yet he wasn't surprised the woman worked there. Luce was kind-hearted Jacob had an eye for distilling the quality. Her vocation suited her personality. The woman helped around in church too. She came to distribute food to the homeless on her days off. She also assisted in the reading class Jacob opened for immigrants with difficulties.

People misjudged her because of her polished and pretty appearance. Many tended to imagine the woman partied and entertained on social media. In reality, Luce was an interior girl who loved to cook. She preferred sitting down with a good book, usually her cousins, then running about on dating apps, and like thousands of women, she dreamt of a Noah Letterman.

"It must be hard working in this facility," Jacob said.

"Working with terminal illness patients is harder. I've seen so many people die," Luce replied as they strode to the entrance.

"I can imagine. Death isn't something easy to handle even for me."

The woman nodded, Jacob gave her a side glance. Even in her hospital uniform, she was radiant.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to it, but I think it's a good thing. I feel as though if I can handle death without grief, it would mean I'm out of compassion," the woman said.

It was Jacob's turn to nod, "indeed, I agree, we can not see death as a banal passage. They arrived in front of the welcome desk, where Jacob stopped to ask for the rooms.

"I'm sorry, pastor, I have to leave you here."

"It's okay, it was nice seeing you," Jacob said with a smile that had his dimples out to say hi.

"It was nice seeing you too."

Jacob watched Luce disappear at the end of the corridor before making his inquiries. The man prayed in silence as he walked to the first patient's room for the nurse to meet someone who would treat her with the respect, love, and care she deserved.

Luce wished she had time to call back Monday to tell her about her encounter with her crush, but for the moment, she needed to recuperate her breath. Though brief, the moment made the womans' heart burst.

Why did she feel this way about an unavailable man?

Also, even if the pastor had to pick a love interest, she could not hope he'd choose her. The pastor was three years her junior. As if it wasn't embarrassing enough to be a spinster, Luce had to be attracted to a younger man. Ever since she had met him, Jacob was the only man she thought of daily. Her colleagues and aunts tried to stitch her up with people of their entourage, but the woman could not start a relationship while thinking of the pastor.

The woman lacked lucidity in her opinion; her feelings were meaningless. Luce attempted to find a reason to abandon, but something withheld her. She was in love with the pastor, and it hurt to know there would never be reciprocity.