For those of you on Gmail, I don’t think the latest instalment of The Accidental Coca Lord reached you. If you haven’t yet read Chapter 8 part 2 - click here
THE LION
Lion, there is no beast more noble than you. Even the Gods admire you Lion. The air flows negative behind you as you walk; as if your being took the best of it and left nothing for the rest. The grasses bend to your beauty as you place each paw between them Lion. Every creature cowers before you Lion, your power is absolute. Ignorant to your grace and beauty Lion, you have been given everything but you assume nothing. You are perfect Lion. Perfect.
You lazy fucking prick. You have been lying there for fourteen hours Lion. You got up for a shit six hours ago and you staggered like an old man with rickets to a bush where you curled one out Lion. So dramatic was your walk, to prove to all of us how tired you are, that you deserve a fucking equity card. Then you staggered back like a Sunday morning drunk Lion and collapsed onto your sister and went back to sleep. Lazy Prick.
Your body was carved by the Gods Lion. Your muscles burst from your arms as you walk. Silent in the grass Lion; pads so wide but set so carefully, you float, silent through the grass. Stealth ripples through you, ghostlike Lion. Your body weaves like liquid through the thickets; not even the thorns notice you. So smooth. So graceful. Your eyes burn Lion; don’t let them give you away. They burn gold as if plucked from the heavens; they could pierce the sun Lion, you could kill with a single glance.
Have you just farted Lion? It fucking stinks. I’m stuck in this car getting paid far less than I should to smell that rotten zebra you ate two days ago. Also really? Are you still asleep? In fact you’re all still asleep, all of you. Did you all get wankered on Special Brew last night Lion and smoke a shit ton of weed? No? I did and I’m awake, the least you could do is get up and do something. I’ve been sitting here for ten straight hours waiting. I’ve got a splitting fucking headache and I want to go to bed. And I really need a piss. You have done nothing. You lazy fucker Lion.
You are the great hunter Lion. The rest pretend, but you are perfection. The embodiment of stealth. You bring the fear that only death can release. The darkness blinds everyone but you Lion. You are the setter of traps, the darkness in the grass. Ambush is your art. Just a slip through the bushes Lion. Just a carefully placed paw; that lands in the silence, that moves invisible. You are the night Lion, agitator of the plains. There’s no sleep tonight Lion, the nerves of every creature dance Lion, because of you.
Ok so you had a long night. Big fucking deal Lion. It’s dusk now Lion. The light has nearly gone Lion and I must leave soon (park rules). And then you rise Lion! Suddenly alert. The zebras have drawn close. Your eyes pierce the setting sun and lay fixed on them, as lasers, unwavering. Perhaps all the concentration in the universe is focused through you Lion. The zebras lie doomed; they cannot escape your gaze now Lion. Your body ripples and tenses. This is your moment Lion. This is our moment Lion. The wind turns in your favour Lion. Their fate is sealed. The end is nigh. But you slump back down in the grass Lion; and you sleep again. Why Lion? Why? Because you’re a lazy bastard.
Written in the Serengeti 2021, while photographing lions for National Geographic magazine.
This was an amazing read.
I quite like it, it is funny and exciting, not boring at all, and a little bit gently also.