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NEW REVIEWS: Whew, I hope I am the first to review "Avilana." I wish I were Avilana! The most powerful
writing of the relationship between a man and a woman I have ever read. OMG, just what is a "carbon bond"?
Mr. Gullatta you write with the kind of passion that takes my breath away. I was right there on every page, in
every word, and begging for more. A truly wonderful work of art. *****__Su Chang-Wu.

WOW! Cash, this guy is something else again! Mesmerizing! In my opinion, the best work in short story form
to be posted at Literary Masters, Inc. to date. Amazing character development and interaction played out in
so few words in such a primitive and captivating landscape. As much a fine painting, at the hands of a master
artist, as a fine writing at the hands of a master writer. Truly, one of our best "Literary Masters!" Roll on, Mr.
Gullatta. Roll on! ***** __ Captain Apple Jack.

A beautifully written essay on the relationship between a woman and a man. Drawing on biblical imagery and
weaving it together with a modern tapestry of love and desire, Mr Gullatta has created quite a sensation. We
are left somewhat puzzled as to just what a "carbon bond" is. Nevertheless, Magnifico! Indeed, Magnifico,
Antonio. *****__Jean Ann Morgan

Clearly a master of imagery and poetic license at one time, Mr. Gullatta has created an unforgettable picture of
primitive love and passion. A dark painting that one must return to again and again for deeper, clearer
understanding and appreciation of his writing skills . . . including the easy but powerful introduction of a new
mystical term, "carbon bond." Give us more! *****__ Barbara A. Sabo.

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“AVILANA”
By Anthony M. Gullatta
Monday, August 8, 2016
Rated "R" by the author
A rib once taken is a rib returned.

Reviews/Buy

                                                                                               -1-
                                                                                                      IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN

I opened my eyes to a blue sky bright with sunshine and puffy white cumulus. All else seemed to have faded
from my mind like a distant, echoing song. A moment, a second before, all I could think of had been Avilana. The
sound of her voice, the touch of her vibrantly warm skin, her beautiful face, her lips upon mine.

Even with the fading memory, I had the feeling I would find her again. For she was bound to me, and I to her,
through all of time. No matter how many eons might separate us, we would find each other again. I knew it with
all of my being.

I was lying on my back. Before, I had been on my stomach, exhausted and giving in to an insatiable need to rest.
A friendly but distant sun had tanned my chest, arms and legs. I supposed my other side too. Sitting up, I looked
around my new location. I was in a broad open meadow of cool grass that sloped gently down towards what
sounded like a shallow stream or river. Trees grew at the water’s edge, surprising me. These were the first trees
I had seen for a long while. The grass was long, wild and matted. No machine had ever cut it, it seemed. Wild
purple-and-white flowers dotted gently rising mounds nearby adding even more color to my environment.
Rocks and boulders jutted from the land here and there. No one had cleared
them away.

The trees by the river swayed in a warm wind, their thin, long limbs bowing down like sad willows toward a
tangle of raw foliage that hugged the river’s bank. There was no sign of civilization; no human beings had ever
been here. Just me. Now.

A rabbit’s brown-eared, fat head popped up from the grass with its nose twitching. It eyed me awhile then
hopped up closer, well within the grasp of my hands. It had no fear of me at all. After finishing its inspection it
jumped away and disappeared into the long grass again.

I looked down at myself. I wore a single garment made of soft leather. Like a kilt, it hung down from my waist to
just above my knees. There was nothing underneath except a wide strip of leather between my legs that
covered my crotch. A braided belt around my waist held a small knife. I withdrew the knife from the belt to
discover it was made of a smooth stone handle with a beautiful, unidentifiable, embedded jewel. It was obvious
that it had taken centuries for the stone to grow around the jewel. Yet time had done little to diminish its
sparkle. Its blade had been chipped from a piece of large flint and tied to the handle rather clumsily with what
look like dried pieces of trumpeter vines.

I closed my eyes for a moment to try to puzzle out where and when I might be. The crude knife was a good clue.
It was obvious I was in the Stone Age or perhaps some time even before that. A calm grassy meadow on a sweet
sunlit morning. An Eden where humans were so rare that animals did not fear them. Civilization had not yet
begun. Not even the first village had been started. Here it was springtime. Flowers were blooming everywhere.
Insects buzzed and scurried through the grass. Birds swooped and sang overhead. I got to my feet. I was in a
beautiful new world, serene and untouched by human hands. Yet I was not alone. I was sure of it. Avilana was
here. Somewhere. I could feel her presence.

                                                                                                -2-
                                                                                            A FORD

I walked down to the river. It was pleasant at first, strolling easily under a warm morning sun. My feet were
bare so the going was more difficult along the river’s bank. Brush grew thick and tangled there. Thorns
scratched at my bare arms and legs as I forced my way forward. Finally I reached the water’s edge where the
large green trees bowed their sad, long arms swaying and whispering above me in a gentle breeze.

The river was slow and sluggish, meandering through the grassy plain. I knelt down and drank from its clear
waters. Off to my right I saw a row of stones rippling above the water’s surface. They had been lined up to form
a path across the river. The first sign of civilization. A ford. Someone had been here.

On the other side the land rose in a gentle slope that led up and away toward a line of low hills. At its crest
I saw that the land became more rugged, serrated into row after row of ever increasing hills, each one rising
slightly higher than the one before. Long lines of green trees showed me where other streams flowed. And off in
the distance, floating like a disembodied ghost in a strange, purple, rain cloud rose a diamond-peaked mountain.
Its cone was covered with snow at the top from which rose a thick wavering line of whitish smoke snaking
upward and then dissipating into the clean blue sky. It was a smoldering volcano and something about it and the
mountain’s diamond-peaked shape stirred a powerful memory within me. I could not pin down just what it was,
but somehow I knew it had to do with Avilana. And the last time I had been with her.

                                                                                               -3-
                                                                                  AVILANA IS HERE

Hawaii. Diamond Head volcano and the beautiful beaches and ocean below. We had been hiking along its edge
and somehow she had slipped or had been blown by a sudden gust of wind into the gaping mouth of
the volcano. And now, now she is here, rising like a specter through the purple rain cloud arms outstretched
beckoning to me. My heart leaped inside my chest. Her midnight black hair rose in a thick mat from her head
down past her broad shoulders. Even at this distance I could see that it was she. She was stark naked and her
body was covered with filth from the environs of the volcano. She carried a crude lance with a thin piece of flint
attached to its end in the manner that the blade had been attached to the handle of the knife at my waist. Now,
she was a woman of this time, a Stone Age huntress in a Neolithic landscape. Probably a member of some clan.
As savage and uncouth as the clan that she must have come from. She showed no sign of recognizing me, though
her lips moved in words spoken only for me . . . And then she sent a vision.

We were together, near some kind of watering spot for the wild animals that traveled the land sometimes
in front of, sometimes behind, sometimes alongside her clan. Darkness had descended over the water hole.
Singly and in pairs animals came to drink at the pool. With a paralyzing scream a male member of the clan
leaped to his feet and threw a spear at one of the animals. It struck a large doe in the chest causing it to fall at
the pool’s edge. Then everyone leaped up roaring with pent-up passion and began killing all the animals around
the water hole.

Avilana was the wildest of all, absolutely fearless and as fierce as any demon out of hell. She clumsily spiked a
fawn with a spear, and then jumped into the middle of the other animals to block any escape route that might
have been available to them. A huge tusked boar charged at her, head down, eyes burning with hate. She spitted
it on another spear but the beast’s furious charge wrested the weapon from her hand. I came
up beside her and pinned the animal’s hindquarters to the ground with one of my spears. With no hesitation,
Avilana leaped upon the boar’s back, and screeching like a wild beast herself, cut its throat from side to
side with her crude stone knife.

We were both soaked with blood of the prey, joined in primitive ardor of death lust unmasked. Suddenly she
flung her arms around my neck laughing and sobbing at the same time. “Bloodmates!” she cried. “We killed it
together. We have shared a death.” I wanted to share love with her, not death, but to her the passions seemed
much the same.

Time moved slowly on to a scene at the encampment of other members of her clan. She stood before them
demanding that I be allowed to partake in some sort of celebration of the day’s kill. Of course this was denied as
I was not a member of her clan, rather a stranger somehow injected into the events of this special day. An
interloper, someone to be feared rather than revered. I was forced to leave the encampment.

I sat alone in the darkness far from their blazing campfire, as the clan danced wildly and rolled on into the night.
Tree trunks loomed black and threatening beside me until I eventually overcame my fears and fell asleep. It was
then that Avilana finally came to me. Even in the darkness, I could smell the blood and the entrails of the wild
animals that smeared her naked body. “You could not come to the ritual,” she whispered her voice still thick
with breathless excitement. “So, I have brought the ritual to you, to take your seed.”

Part of me was disgusted with her and her primitive blood lust. I flinched at taking her in my arms and
wallowing in her stench and passions. Yet, with a suddenness that overwhelmed every thought in my mind, I
became as wild and fierce as she was and at last, for a while, I held onto my Avilana.

Light entered my world and I staggered from her mesmerizing myth, exhausted and ashamed. Even at
the height of my revulsion, she had taken my seed as easy as candy from a baby. She smiled at me from the
mountain. A smile of clear understanding of her having misjudged the effect of her first vision, and then she sent
a second.

Now we were together on my side of the river. The smell of the filth on her body repulsed me yet again. But now
her eyes were a stone gray, deep and filled with light and endless wisdom, and she took me carefully by my hand
into the river water. She pulled a mound of moss from one of the stones in the riverbed and began to rub my
arms and hands. Soon a smooth white lather of a fragrant kind of soap formed along the skin where she bathed
me. She stopped at my chest, staring in disbelief, running her empty hand along its smooth surface. “No mat,”
she said. And I understood her. The people of her clan were all heavily covered with thick hair that served to
keep them warm and gave them some protection from lice, ticks and other unseen predators. She seemed
hypnotized by my smooth, clean skin.

Then she stepped back and gave the green sponge to me. Motioning to her face and hair, she wanted me
to wash her. I did so covering all of her until she was once again clean and glistening in the sun. A sweet aroma
rose from her skin and her hair as she began to bath me once again with a childish smile. Having great difficulty
taking her eyes away from my bare chest. When she was finished we moved out of the
river up the small hill into the grassy meadow.

She placed her hands on my shoulders and pressed me to the ground, her body flowing lightly upon mine.
I tightened my arms around her back as she pressed her warm breast against my chest forcing an even tighter
clinch of our two bodies. Our mouths met in an intoxicating embrace as she moved her body equally along mine.
And then I became lost in what she was doing. Slowly, forcefully, her breasts then her thighs and then her legs
melded into mine. A moment longer and her arms and mouth were no more. She had become completely
morphed into my body in a powerful primordial carbon bond.

Upon this grassy plain, under a warm sun, with the sound of gentle water running by, we had become one again.
A borrowed rib had been returned to me in a mythical Garden of Eden never to be removed again. Man.
Woman. Woman/Man. The circle had been completed and I felt whole once more. When I opened my eyes,
Avilana was standing there on the other side of the river. So close now. She had come down from the mountain.

She summoned me to the other side of the ford, and I crossed over.


                                                                   © 2016 Anthony M. Gullatta [All Rights Reserved]