| Author: | Melvin Litton | ISBN: | 6230000001483 |
| Publisher: | Crossroad Press | Publication: | July 2, 2016 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Melvin Litton |
| ISBN: | 6230000001483 |
| Publisher: | Crossroad Press |
| Publication: | July 2, 2016 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
Imagine … a raven on the branch of a fruit tree speaks to you, complimenting you on the song you have just sung. You, Rodger Games, carpenter by day and guitar-player by night, are drawn by the wonder: the how, where, and why of its origins. A dialogue begins. But along with the mystery of the raven arrives the snake, a deadly ‘breath-of-heaven’, its assassin partner. The duo once worked for Shining Path, the Peruvian Maoist movement founded by the arch-ideologue, Zalo. Soon the trail leads to the Medellin Cartel and ‘The Center’ a secret institute staffed by the tutored sons of Mengele and located in the remotest Amazon.
Adjacent to the dialogue appear farm workers and laborers Black, White, Indian, and Hispanic a young woman of focal beauty named Luana, and a midnight prowler who drives a black Porsche; and always, the ubiquitous digressions of memory. Where will it lead? To what end? Consider: ravens, snakes, and revolutionaries, God, Devil, man, and woman all transformed into a pair of dice … roll ’em...whadaya get? The lucky seven? double-sixes? or snake-eyes? And with what consequence?
The mystery is something of a creation myth. For eventually there is a harvest: the cruel scythe of political terrorism; the blessing of woman, fruit and song, and the promise of a mystical union, for with the harvest is planted the seed of new potential … Geminga.
Adjacent to the dialogue appear farm workers and laborers Black, White, Indian, and Hispanic a young woman of focal beauty named Luana, and a midnight prowler who drives a black Porsche; and always, the ubiquitous digressions of memory. Where will it lead? To what end? Consider: ravens, snakes, and revolutionaries, God, Devil, man, and woman all transformed into a pair of dice … roll ’em...whadaya get? The lucky seven? double-sixes? or snake-eyes? And with what consequence?
The mystery is something of a creation myth. For eventually there is a harvest: the cruel scythe of political terrorism; the blessing of woman, fruit and song, and the promise of a mystical union, for with the harvest is planted the seed of new potential … Geminga.
Imagine … a raven on the branch of a fruit tree speaks to you, complimenting you on the song you have just sung. You, Rodger Games, carpenter by day and guitar-player by night, are drawn by the wonder: the how, where, and why of its origins. A dialogue begins. But along with the mystery of the raven arrives the snake, a deadly ‘breath-of-heaven’, its assassin partner. The duo once worked for Shining Path, the Peruvian Maoist movement founded by the arch-ideologue, Zalo. Soon the trail leads to the Medellin Cartel and ‘The Center’ a secret institute staffed by the tutored sons of Mengele and located in the remotest Amazon.
Adjacent to the dialogue appear farm workers and laborers Black, White, Indian, and Hispanic a young woman of focal beauty named Luana, and a midnight prowler who drives a black Porsche; and always, the ubiquitous digressions of memory. Where will it lead? To what end? Consider: ravens, snakes, and revolutionaries, God, Devil, man, and woman all transformed into a pair of dice … roll ’em...whadaya get? The lucky seven? double-sixes? or snake-eyes? And with what consequence?
The mystery is something of a creation myth. For eventually there is a harvest: the cruel scythe of political terrorism; the blessing of woman, fruit and song, and the promise of a mystical union, for with the harvest is planted the seed of new potential … Geminga.
Adjacent to the dialogue appear farm workers and laborers Black, White, Indian, and Hispanic a young woman of focal beauty named Luana, and a midnight prowler who drives a black Porsche; and always, the ubiquitous digressions of memory. Where will it lead? To what end? Consider: ravens, snakes, and revolutionaries, God, Devil, man, and woman all transformed into a pair of dice … roll ’em...whadaya get? The lucky seven? double-sixes? or snake-eyes? And with what consequence?
The mystery is something of a creation myth. For eventually there is a harvest: the cruel scythe of political terrorism; the blessing of woman, fruit and song, and the promise of a mystical union, for with the harvest is planted the seed of new potential … Geminga.
