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    The Lonely God: A Short Story
    The Lonely God: A Short Story
    The Lonely God: A Short Story
    Ebook35 pages21 minutes

    The Lonely God: A Short Story

    By Agatha Christie

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    About this ebook

    Previously published in the print anthology The Harlequin Tea Set and Other Stories.

    Frank Oliver returns to England after years of overseas service only to realize he no longer knows anyone there. On visiting the British Museum, he encounters the “lonely god,” who seems to be experiencing the same sense of isolation he is. Will this strange deity help relieve him of his loneliness?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateNov 26, 2013
    ISBN9780062302847
    The Lonely God: A Short Story
    Author

    Agatha Christie

    Agatha Christie is known throughout the world as the Queen of Crime. Her books have sold over a billion copies in English with another billion in over 70 foreign languages. She is the most widely published author of all time and in any language, outsold only by the Bible and Shakespeare. She is the author of 80 crime novels and short story collections, 20 plays, and six novels written under the name of Mary Westmacott.

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    • 5/5
      This reminded me of Neil Gaiman's American Gods. I wonder if he has read this?

    Book preview

    The Lonely God - Agatha Christie

    Contents

    The Lonely God

    About the Author

    The Agatha Christie Collection

    Copyright

    About the Publisher

    THE LONELY GOD

    He stood on a shelf in the British Museum, alone and forlorn amongst a company of obviously more important deities. Ranged round the four walls, these greater personages all seemed to display an overwhelming sense of their own superiority. The pedestal of each was duly inscribed with the land and race that had been proud to possess him. There was no doubt of their position; they were divinities of importance and recognized as such.

    Only the little god in the corner was aloof and remote from their company. Roughly hewn out of grey stone, his features almost totally obliterated by time and exposure, he sat there in isolation, his elbows on his knees, and his head buried in his hands; a lonely little god in a strange country.

    There was no inscription to tell the land whence he came. He was indeed lost, without honour or renown, a pathetic little figure very far from home. No one noticed him, no one stopped to look at him. Why should they? He was so insignificant, a block of grey stone in a corner. On either side of him were two Mexican gods worn smooth with age, placid idols with folded hands, and cruel mouths curved in a smile that showed openly their contempt of humanity. There was also a rotund, violently self-assertive little god, with a clenched

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