Tamara de Lempicka Two Friends

Tamara de Lempicka Two FriendsTamara de Lempicka The Green TurbanTamara de Lempicka Summer
echoes of his own soul. And out of the distant echoes he would forge a Book of Vorbis, and Brutha suspected he knew what the commandments would be. There would be talk of holy wars and blood and crusades and blood and piety and blood., and Om spoke to one of them.
It had never occurred to Brutha like that before.
Om had spoken to him. Admittedly, he hadn't said the things that the Great Prophets said he said. Perhaps he'd never said things like that . . .
He worked his way along to the end of the row. Then he tidied up the bean vines.Brutha got up, feeling like a fool. But the thoughts wouldn't go away.He was a bishop, but he didn't know what bishops did. He'd only seen them in the distance, drifting along like earthbound clouds. There was only one thing he felt he knew how to do.Some spotty boy was hoeing the vegetable garden. He looked at Brutha in amazement when he took the hoe, and was stupid enough to try to hang on to it for a moment."I am a bishop, you know," said Brutha. "Anyway, you aren't doing it right. Go and do something else."Brutha jabbed viciously at the weeds around the seedlings. Only away a few weeks and already there was a haze of green on the soil.You're a bishop. For being good. And here's the iron turtle. In case you're bad. Because . . .. . . there were two people in the desert