I can swear there ain't no Heaven
But I pray there ain't no hell ♫

Blood, Sweat, & Tears

PROLOGUE

 

It is a primitive time, a time without cell phones, a time without iPods, iPads, blackberries, or widespread personal computers. The word ‘like’ is not used superfluously as senseless staccato between ‘sort of,’ ‘kind of,’ ‘you know,’ ‘awesome,’ and ‘whatever.’ People write with pens or pencils rather than with their thumbs. Keyboards do exist, but typewriters outnumber them. Religion, aka superstition, though on the wane, still holds comprehensive sway. Vehicles do not speak, neither to stipulate rules nor to volunteer directions. Torture is a well-kept secret, if no less employed by duplicitous government. Coffee costs less than a dollar, with fewer permutations. Dog shit lies where dogs deposit it, no plastic baggies used to take the place of rain. It is nineteen-eighty-seven; pernicious disease afflicts a renegade minority.

 

 retreat        currydoglit        advance