The office walls were adorned with elegant grey and ivory wallpaper, complemented by motivational photographs in polished silver frames. A single floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the busy main road, allowing soft daylight to brighten the room. In one corner, the air conditioner hummed steadily, keeping the office pleasantly cool. Opposite it stood a tall bookshelf, its top cluttered with neatly stacked papers held in place by a paperweight shaped like a tuft of grass. A few pens rested atop the documents, while others had rolled onto the shelf below.
Seated behind my grey mahogany desk, I immersed myself in the Word of the Most High. At least, I tried to. Before long, my thoughts drifted from Scripture to Heaven.
More specifically, they wandered back to the way things had ended between us the last time we had been intimate. Until that night, I had lived a life of celibacy. I had disciplined my mind not to dwell on physical desire, believing my calling demanded that sacrifice.
