Let him drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more.

Flash Fiction:

As King Lemuel led his mother, the sick elderly, and the young maiden into his decorative chamber, the servants of the palace were arranging wide feast upon the many ornate tables. “How long has your father been like this?” The King asked, placing himself atop his royal throne.

“As long as I have remembered,” the woman began, “he has flashed in and out of spells, as if the demons allow him the mockery of sane moments so they may torment him with remembrance of the foul behavior he has endured by their control.” Tears filled her eyes. “To even mention the mischief my father has done! He is a good man, he would never do if he were of a right mind. But the spirits of dark force lay hold.”

“How have you managed?” King Lemuel inquired.

The woman straightened her posture, and looked straight toward the King by means of such fierce composure of certainty, “Our household has managed by the power of GOD alone,” she briefly uttered to the King, a great air of dignity in her poise and mannerism.

The King’s mother sat along her son and the woman, speaking further on the prophecy, “Let him drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more.”

King Lemuel ushered for prayer warriors and the physicians of his palace to attend to the elderly man with unclean spirits, and called for strong drink. “Your father has never tasted such an ale; my master brewers ferment this combination of all the land’s finest wheat and hops., barley and choice fruit. Give this to your father, for I have prayed over his cup, and have asked the GOD of Almighty to bless him.”

The people of the court raised their glasses in sincere praise of the Most High God, asking for the sanctification of them all, and redemption for the man ill of unclean spirits.