Books & Beyond

Goodnight, Gustav Klein – Excerpt – by Elliot C. Mason @ArthurRay44

Posted on: December 19, 2013

From my latest work, I Think The Milkman Makes More Money Than Me.

The Unfortunate Tale of the Man Known as ‘A Man… Yet Another Man’

Sitting around the dining table with Arthur, Elliot and Andreas, spitting wine into each other’s mouth, swearing at the wall – A Man just finished his trite but well-paid job inventing syphilis, cancer, the bubonic plague and other hopeful undertakings designed to stick a spanner in the works of the unsightly game called ‘human reproduction’ – he yawns, filling his face-hole with wine and says, ‘good morning, you wretched beasts,’ even though it’s late afternoon and everyone has been awake since the beginning of the century, which seems so long ago no one can really remember it.

He then plays the flute terribly because he is a hapless waste of space and knows almost nothing about music – all he knows is that John Lee Hooker’s great uncle was an unsuccessful alchemist who fused human urine with all manner of unsuspecting substances and produced a necklace which appears to be made of gold, and A Man now wears it around his ankle. and he’s a hell-bound faker and tells everyone he’s a game-eater and piano-licker and beer-freezer and sand-singer and sun-skipper, which is almost entirely wrong and he holds most of the secrets of the Russian winter and devised a plan which will lead him directly to Seychelles through the frantically swimming sperm of a whale in the Pacific, which is huge and blue and cold, just like everyone around the table at the headquarters where A Man…

Yet Another Man now empties the wine into his veins and sucks all the reindeer juice out of a pineapple and climbs up onto the table, holing onto his hat, swaying on the lampshade, saying ‘a lack of proper funding has caused me to drink properly!’ and he looks so small up there in his torn leggings and upside-down shoes and buttonless belt wrapped around his hat – his eternal hat that protects him from the effervescent rain in drag disguise. the man who killed all the lepors is marching through a gambling time-warp, intent on ruin, and A Man…

Yet Another Man just slaps him a wicked honest one on the jaw which no one is very surprised about so the guests just keep busy drinking until nothing makes any sense which is the only decent way to end the night – nothing is there that’s worth making any sense of anyway and everything fades away eventually and I just lie slumped over a tombstone whose epitaph reads ‘A Man… Yet Another Man, Yet Another Man, Yet Another… Yet Another…’

Eufrat Blovich,

Inside the warthogs’ cage.

Buy Now @ Amazon & Smashwords

Genre – Travel, Political, Dystopia, Romance

Rating – PG15

More details about the author

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