Apokatastasis

1) being restored; restitution.

2) a Christian doctrine proscribing that Satan and all sinners will ultimately be restored to God.

The water streamed over his upturned face, washing away what little desire for sleep he had left. A bar of Irish Spring held in both hands under his chin, the scent cleansing the lingering odor of his dreams away.
He had recurring nightmares that robbed him of his sleep, his peace.......and etched his guilt on his face like a master sculptor gone mad.

Webb shook his head, water flying as his long hair whipped around the shower, slapping the opaque, textured sliding shower door. He finished washing and sliding open the door, embraced the day........and what he considered his oppurtunity. The foggy mirror greeted him.

"God is good", he smiled at the thought of his boss allowing him a few extra moments every morning before he had to look himself in the eye.
His smile faded as he cracked the bathroom door, letting in the cooler, drier air. He wiped the glass with the towell, providing himself with an obscurred view of his shame. The scowl he reserved for himself greeting him.

He glanced to the countertop on his left, checking yet again to make sure he had his orange juice ready and on hand. The toothpaste shimmered on his toothbrush like the glittered, worried faces of teenage girls that came to tell him of their indiscretions and ask for his absolutions. He wanted to tell them that he and God had already forgiven them, it was in themselves they needed to search for forgiveness.

He wanted to tell them that, but that's not why they came. Not what they wanted. They didn't want to work for their forgiveness, didn't want to search too deeply inside themselves. After all, ignorance is bliss. Especially when oneself is concerned. They just wanted him to tell them it was going to be alright. That if they wanted it and asked for it and believed that Jesus had died for their sins and they'd accepted him as their Lord and saviour, that they were forgiven and would be granted access to the holy party in the sky come judgement day.....so he did. He spouted Dogma and cited Bible verse and followed the rules. But he always gave a parting snippet of the good stuff and offered any council at any time that anyone needed. He wasn't hard to find. And many had...many still did and Webb sincerely hoped many more would.......He had debts to pay.

Formerly TheJunkiesFaust(As Yet To Be Re-titled)#18

...........a hospital scene.

The formerly fetish clad party goers now had medical gear layered over there rubber costumes, piercings and tatoos......except the creepy old man who had already been dressed up as a 1930's surgeon from the nether regions of hades.......he was already set. The others had put on rubber gloves, rubber aprons and plastic face shields.......not taking any chances these.

Each fallen out junkie had a coupla ravers hovering over them and apparently taking blood. IV's ran to clear plastic bags on tall stainless steal stands on rollers. The bags were full or filling and the "techs" were winding it up. Unhooking the now sleeping and unwitting participants from their IV's and wheeling off their equipment and ill gotten gain.

The good quality smack-a-lacka and the blood loss had all but comatosed Dirt, Maya and the others like them. They were gonna be out for awhile. Thomas thought he'd like to get the hell outta here as soon as possible, but now he was gonna have to wait on Dirt to wake up. Maybe he'd be able to rouse him soon while Maya was still out and drag him outta here before he realized Maya wasn't with them. Then he'd have to hope a bus came by soon....or maybe a taxi would come by, he'd gladly pay the cab fare to get away from here and this whole scene. Fuckin Dirt......they were gonna have to talk. This had to end......

..........there weren't gonna be any fuckin cabs out here........FUCK!



To read what happened before this post, go to the Oven link and start on TheJunkiesFaust #1. Then come back and continue the journey with me..........

Hello

I'm FTD Parish. I'll post original fiction on this blog in what I hope will be a somewhat regular fashion.

As the title suggests, this is a work in progress. This blog, the writing itself.....and me. I envision this as a tool for bettering my technique, my style and myself in the process.....and maybe even the process itself. As an aside, you'll be able to watch the evolution of the story or storyline itself as I'll use this in a draft-like tool. The stories you read will NOT be polished, refined and ready to go. I'm gonna write here in an almost stream of consciousness kinda way.....sorta.

Anyone happening across this is welcome to follow along and witness the evolution...or lack there of if you like. We'll see.....or I will anyway.

To see some fiction I've previously posted on FINNAGINSWAKENBAKEOVEN, use this link.......http://finnaginswakenbaker.blogspot.com/.

And I'll try to get some new, shiny, fresh fiction posted here this weekend.

Other than the random short story, the majority of the fiction here will be following two story lines that are already in progress at the Oven.....at least for as long as I'm interested in them. Both(The Junkies Faust(currently living under an as yet to be determined new title) and The Usful Idiot series), will continue on this blog, as will all new fiction with the Oven being a canvas for anything else that comes up.

So......for new fiction, come to Parish In Progress. For old fiction and other misc ramblings, go to the Oven.

Until then....then.