Well, that was a mistake at this afternoon's prayer meeting. I'm afraid Charlii's keen, and forgot one of my golden rules - don't let people be too open in an uncontrolled environment.
"Just share your deepest hopes and dreams - the things that are on your mind right now," she suggested.
"I pray that no-one says anything too stupid," was my deepest hope and prayer at that moment.
"I pray that lager be made less expensive," responded Marston.
"Oh Lord, I want to be an Atlantic 4-4-2 loco," expressed Burton, out-doing all his previous nerdiness in one simple petition.
"It's Friday evening, I want to get down the pub, and I pray that this prayer meeting won't be as long as last Friday's," suggested Young Keith - clearly taking the whole honesty thing very seriously.
"We pray for the people of our local community, who we never meet because they think we're weird," came from Newton Bromswold.
Unfortunately, at that point Milton Ernest decided to list the things that were most on his mind. Which appeared mostly to relate to the desire - which he had kept remarkably quiet about - that he feels for Charlii. It was quite some prayer, and the most honest I've ever heard. Suffice it to say, however, that I can't see God granting Milton's petitions because Charlii clearly won't. She hit him over the head with a Beaker and called the prayer meeting to an end.
So at least Young Keith's prayer was heard. Judging by the cloud of dust heading down School Lane towards the White Horse, we may be about to hear another sonic boom.