For the short story reader. Updated every Monday.

The Short Form

“Vacancy for the Post of Jesus Christ”

Kojo Laing


True, there was a dark bronze man with very clear eyes at the wheel of the lorry. The murmuring in the crowd grew, as the untidy but immaculate-eyed man of ropegold presented one expressionless look after another. The old rain came back and wet the lorry. But the crowd remained dry. Father Vea was jumping about and praying at the same time, as the lone traditional priest, now come, poured libration at great speed. He was trying to beat the golden lorry to Asaae Yaa before it landed. The cries of goats were stuck in the mouth, and Father Vea was going round the mouths of goats trying hard to unstick the sounds. He shouted, ‘The more apocalyptic we appear, the easier it would be for the divine to pass us by! Let the goats be normal!’ ‘Go back to your African Gonja karate, Father!’ someone shouted back. At the edges of the small ponds the guinea grass was motionless with the cries of doves. Bishop Bawa had been told of what was happening while he was in his vast rice and pepper farms. He had been strolling up and down just behind his open-air raffia altar. He and Father Vea had jumped in surprise together, bur Father Vea had jumped higher.