April 21, 2008
PROLOGUE
| BERRIEN C. HENDERSON |
Here lies syntactic mystery from strange and alien tongues, unstuck and bound to the land where “Once upon a time” wedges itself in the treated-pine cracks in the doorstep of a drunkard’s single-wide trailer, and holy blood and holy roods are nothing more than cheap wine and scarecrow staves out of some dead land.
Write it on your heart.
Mark it ye.
Listen.
Come . . .