Father Charles' Unusual Sunday Brunch Chapter 1, The Invitation Father Charles Dodson, the thirty year old pastor of St. Joseph's Catholic Church, was sitting at the dining table in the rectory kitchen waiting patiently for his lunch to be served. He was wearing skimpy but comfortable running shorts, tennis shoes with short socks, and a loose fitting light...
The chapel had fallen into disrepair, the people no longer felt any need of it and it had been in misuse for many years, stood dark and cold at the edge of the village, like the shell of a body which has lost its heart, its soul, its purpose. But once every week, on what would once have been a holy day, Agatha would sit at her window which overlooked the ch...
Confession Time "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned, it has been six months since my last confession. Since then..." My voice is soft; barely an audible whisper yet carries through the ornate divider without hindrance; its solid panel having been drawn back with a light rasping sound. "I ... I have missed Mass, three times, told several lies and, Father,...
Copyright Oggbashan December 2017 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. This story is set at the time of the Hundred Years War. Convers...
"Forgive me Father for I have sinned." Brie said as she closed the booth door behind her. "When was your last confession my child?" The priest responded. He sounded like young man, handsome and vital. Nothing like the old men that are always priests in the movies or even in Brie's albeit limited personal experience. Her parents weren't particularly religio...
Father Gunther smiled and turned the vibrator off, setting it on the table. "Let us get you ready then," he said. "And get you out of those clothes." He came over to Eden, taking the back of her chair and pulled her rearward. When she looked to either side she noticed something. Gunther or his agents had been busy. There were two thick poles now anchored...
The fresh priest standing in front of me sways his weight forward. "Who are you?" His dark tone nudges off the stone walls of the bell tower. He is quite handsome for a man of the cloth, and unusually robust. A roughness under his placid demeanour darkens his boyish face. He should be nervous, not starved. Tilting my shoulders, my dress slips down my body...
Not a big fan of second parts, but as some emailed me for this one, I took the time (very limited with the team season suspended, travel, coronavirus hysteria) to write this one. Will Dogannu survive his second night against Aalyat? We will see it. A new important character joins us, will it change the course of the story? Once again, this isn't intended to...
The phone rang: Father McNamara had just finished hearing his final confession and hoped this intrusion wasn't going to delay his meditations. "Alright." he sighed, removing his chasuble. "Give me a moment or two." His first parish was a small community, about a thousand souls all told, and he was keenly aware of his naivety in dealing with the outside wo...
The retired priest's residence looked not unlike a university dormitory – utilitarian and architecturally undistinguished. Two multi-storied wings extended from a central tower that overlooked a large courtyard. Spotlights illuminated the cross affixed to the peak of the tower. Kat drove slowly past the residence and parked several streets away. At this hou...