Adventures in Hell

In the Spirit of the Gracious and Compassionate
Creator of the Heavens and the Earth

Lester A. Knibbs aka Doctor Hakeem

Damn it’s hot.

I found myself walking around with a little slip of paper with an address on it, telling me where to go. But I couldn’t find the way.

I saw an angel. A black man with big drooping wings.

Excuse me, can you tell me …

Get the fuck out of my face!

And he trudged off.

Don’t mind him. He’s just a BAA.

A BAA? I asked.

Yeah. A bad-attitude-angel. Lot’s of ’em around here. Well, gotta go!

And he waved his own little slip of paper, and ran off.

I was getting really tired from wandering around and wanted to sit down.

Then I noticed how hot the ground was. I was walking bare-foot on hot gravel. No shoes.

No clothes, actually. Nobody had any clothes. A bunch of guys wandering around naked with little slips of paper, and nobody can find his way.

No women. And no white guys either. Just all us black men who had died and gone to hell. Weird.

I saw a really dark man. Really dark. Slim, bald-headed, with tight muscles. His big dick was hard, and he was running, eyes bugged out, with his hands extended out front as if trying to grab something that was just out of reach.

Where are all the white people?

Here! Let me show you.

I had just noticed how rough the ground was. Like thousands of little hills and cliffs going off in every direction. And this guy, the same one who had run off, the only one who ever talked to me, was showing me a gap in one of the little cliffs.

Through this opening I could see what looked like a vast cavern which seemed to be a huge banquet-hall filled with white guys. They were eating and drinking. Consuming vast quantities of food, as fast as they could, stuffing themselves as if famished. And they were screaming.

When I saw what they were eating and drinking, I screamed too. I let out such a long hard howl of a scream I can’t remember anything else. I can’t even remember what I saw, it was so nightmarish.

I passed out and woke up later. On my feet, wearing tattered rags of clothing, I had a musket in my hands. Straight ahead of me was a British officer, resplendent in his red, blue and white colonial-style uniform. Thousands of armed troops in ranks awaited his command.

He was within range. I raised my musket and aimed. At that same moment, he raised his sword and brought it down with his shouted command. My musket and their thousands of muskets exploded simultaneously. I saw nothing but fire and smoke.

I woke up naked again, carrying that little slip of paper. I saw an angel and started to ask him for help.

Get the fuck out of my face!

And so it goes.

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