Spirits of a Lesser God: With a blink, a wink and a nod
By A. R. Forte
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About this ebook
This is a collection of fast-moving short stories that pack a punch. Each character is human, but has to negotiate completely different situations. Some are humorous, some are downright bizarre – and some are horrific. The term ‘Spirit of a lesser God’ is deftly dropped into some of the stories to jolt the readers’ memory back to the poem at the opening of the book.
Spirits of a Lesser God readers will find themselves emotional – and gobsmacked – with the tales’ unfolding, dramatic denouements, and vivid characters.
The book, which has been inspired by George Orwell, Jonathan Swift and ‘anything bizarre’, will interest adult readers that are familiar with pop culture and are looking for something with a cutting edge. “I wanted to offer something completely different, to invent a type of trend and inspire people,” says A R Forte behind the motivation to write Spirits of a Lesser God.
A. R. Forte
An ex-Polaris submariner for the Royal Navy, A. R. Forte currently works in security, living and working in Spain. Spirits of a Lesser God was published in 2012 by Matador, and The Horse Keeper was published in 2013.
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Spirits of a Lesser God - A. R. Forte
Copyright © 2018 A. R. Forte
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
Matador
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Wistow Road, Kibworth Beauchamp,
Leicestershire. LE8 0RX
Tel: (+44) 116 279 2299
Fax: (+44) 116 279 2277
Email: books@troubador.co.uk
Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador
ISBN 978 1789012 156
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd
CONTENTS
The Lion and the Lunatic
Deeming and the Demons
Finally leaving Lola
David’s last call to Arms
Forty Feet below Heaven
Children of a Lesser God
Minnie Bird
Twiss
For Fuck sake Dave
SPIRIT OF A LESSER GOD
Let ponder and emote
In dark corners far remote
But blinded by a smoke
That passion and fire evoke
Now wonder who you are
A spectra near and far
Why laugh at faith and sin
While demons dance within
Thy question truth and law
While burning at the core
Flee pussyfoot across a shore
Where mighty waves crash and roar
Your heart is torn asunder
As through this world you blunder
The sky is neither black or blue
But lightning bolts stab at you
Thunder rolls across the night
Where creepy crawlies howl and bite
A nubile beast has slipped her sleep
Dancing naked from where you peep
A rod of brass and copper
A blithe and stealthy robber
And with a blink a wink and nod
Laughs a spirit of a lesser God.
THE LION AND THE LUNATIC
The door of the cafeteria burst open and the lunatic was bundled into the street by the pint-sized manager and a burly chef as some alarmed pedestrians looked on.
And don’t come back or I’ll call the police next time!
exclaimed the manager.
The lunatic although angry decided that it was best to let the matter rest. Why hadn’t anybody else seen the big, gregarious man who had appeared clean out of the ether in front of him, sit down in the chair opposite and begin to taunt him? And how on earth did this man know his name? He was not going to just sit there and take this completely ‘uncalled for’ abuse. That’s why he had thrown a sugar dish at him and had exploded with some expletives of his own. Unfortunately the sugar dish had hit a woman on the head and the sugar had cascaded everywhere.
He had suffered a bad couple of days, but at least his appetite had returned. After all, the food in asylum was exceedingly good and for some strange reason he had lost all sense of proportion after the accident, and had been shovelling food down his throat as if there was no tomorrow. What had happened between the time of being thrown through the windscreen and waking up in the hospital, was a complete mystery to him. All he knew was that when he regained consciousness he had the ability to talk to animals and understand what they were saying. The problem was that nobody believed him. After looking around the shops for an hour he decided to go to the only place where he could maintain some form of conversation albeit illogical to him, the Zoo. The only refuge from his madness, the Zoo.
The first species to greet him as he entered the Zoo were the toucans, which were looking him up and down with beady eyes rolling around in all directions.
Greetings, and what an honoured guest we have today,
one said sarcastically.
The rest of them began to chuckle and mutter to each other, Let’s tantalise and goad him and see what pious utterances he comes out with today, the ridiculous nutcase.
Greetings to you bird brain, I suppose you think you’re amusing do you?
he replied.
I must admit we do find you amusing, especially when your fellow man doesn’t believe you when you tell them you can talk to us and understand what we say.
How come you’re all developed American accents since the last time I saw you?
It’s all the American tourists with their cameras and booming voices. I don’t know what they find so comical about us, after all we’re only toucans.
It’s the beak and your beady eyes old boy. You’re probably the most comical looking bird in the ornithological kingdom there is. Comical looking, but stupid.
To the last comment the toucans became enraged and began to fly around their cage before finally settling, lining up like infantry on their perches, then glaring at him.
We don’t care to talk to you now, you’re a bum and a loser. And we know all about you remember. So just leave us alone from, now on and don’t bother us anymore.
Their words fell on the back of the lunatic’s head, because he had already begun to walk away. As he passed the zebras enclosure a young female zebra noticed him and cautiously walked over. She blinked at him, then winked and said,
Hello, how are you? You look a lot better than the last time I saw you,
she said.
I’m very well thanks, considering all that’s happened to me. How are you young lady?
I’m well thanks. My mother doesn’t like me talking to you because you’re a lunatic, and your species are all the same, deceptive, devious and deplorable liars and cheats.
Well, I’ve never harmed you, have I?
No, but the way you think and behave is so confusing to us.
Really, I didn’t know that you knew so much about me.
Oh, we know all right…I’m sorry that your wife left you, by the way.
How did you know my wife left me?
We just know these things, your species are completely different to us.
She then became coy and slightly embarrassed, before she said sympathetically,
It’s the damage to your brain you received, the part that plants sexual desires and gets you into all sorts of trouble. That was damaged and you lost the impulse.
Impulse! What impulse?
The sexual impulse, you silly boy. The impulse, which was far too strong for you has gone, the same impulse that’s got you into all sorts of trouble. Come on, you know as well as I do that’s the real reason why your wife left you and took a lover.
How dare you! How dare you be so impertinent!
She simply looked at him impassively and said,
You can’t even admit the truth to yourself can you? And you wasn’t exactly a model husband, with your antics, alibis, and laughable schemes and ploys involving women.
The lunatic simply turned and walked away, because he knew she was telling the truth. As he passed the elephant enclosure, an ancient bull strolled up to the bars and said,
Greetings, loony pants, to what do we owe the pleasure this afternoon?
Don’t you have a go at me as well, I thought as least I could talk to you lot.
Well, what do you expect with your lofty opinions of yourself, your inane comments and your vain, pretentious rhetoric, commonly known to your species as bullshit.
Blimey, where did you learn all that jazz…?
Jazz is a musical art form, that bears no resemblance to a lunatic that likes to blow his own vile, out of key and deafening trumpet. Now split the scene, loony arse.
The lunatic was beginning to have regrets about coming to the Zoo this afternoon. He did not want to go back to the asylum too early, because he simply did not like the company of lunatics that did not realise that he was not really one of them. He stopped at the tiger’s enclosure and looked in. A female had her head resting on the back of a reclining, gigantic male. When she noticed him her ears pricked up and she whispered something in the ear of the male, whose back immediately tensed, and the hidden muscles along his striped body rippled like a stone being dropped into a pool. He slowly stood up and the female slid off his mighty body like a coat, which he was carelessly discarding. Waving his mighty paw he shouted at the lunatic,
Bugger off! Bugger off you bloody sod… Bugger off, you bloody sod!
This rattled all of the parrots and cockatoos that were perched in a cage opposite. In one sweeping movement they all leapt onto the bars, squawking in deafening unison,
Bugger off, you bloody sod! Bugger off you bloody sod!
He felt crestfallen and demoralised by this cold and unexpected reception by all of the animals. He was about to leave when he remembered that in a cage at the extreme end of the Zoo lived the King of all Kings, the lion.
As he sauntered up to his cage he wondered if the King would even bother to hold counsel with him today, and was pleasantly surprised when the lion appeared to be thoroughly delighted to see him. The lion smiled, licked his lips and said casually,
Hello big boy, you’re looking well, can see you’ve put on weight. You would make rather a good meal now, instead of a tasty morsel. I would sincerely like to eat you now, killing you first of course. They must feed you well in that asylum!
"Well it’s nice to be wanted,