Cicada - Genesis - Ariel Lilli Cohen - ebook
Opis

A man, a woman. The fruit of their love. New York. He is a Muslim Arab boy. She is an Israeli Jewish girl. This time the dealer mishandled the cards. Their stories and their dreams crash against the bare and raw reality that upsets their lives. The origins and the genesis and the childhood of one of the characters of the new novel Israel Jihad in Jersulaem.

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Table of Contents
Dedication
Preface
Chapter 1 Childhood
Chapter 2 Adolescence
Chapter 3 The Awareness
Chapter 4 The Metamorphosis
Chapter 5 The hypogeum of the ego
Chapter 6 The Chrysalis and the butterflies
Chapter 7 Bitcoin and CriptoLira
Chapter 8 Extra Omnes
Chapter 9 Cicada
Chapter 10 Code breaker Challenge
Chapter 11 Exit Strategy
Epilogue
Ariel Lilli

CICADA

Genesis

A novel by Ariel Lilli Cohen

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2018 Ariel Lilli Cohen

All rights reserved. The reproduction in any form and the distribution with any means of any part of this book is not permitted without prior written authorization: www.ariellillicohen.co.il www.ariellillicohen.com ariel@ariellillicohen.co.il

Author’s note: the book is fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. The names of nations, politicians, and public figures present in the book are used as suggestion and do not represent neither their thoughts, nor real actions performed by the politicians or the nations. The names of the public places and the cities are often used for atmospheric purpose and do not have any association with real facts or expressed thoughts. The model portrayed in the cover picture is not to be associated with the likeness of the author. Any resemblance to real people, alive or not, companies, events, institutions or locales is completely coincidental.

Paper Book

Ebook

Available in Isbn:

Printed in Israel - Tel Aviv 330033

Cicada - Genesis

Taken from the original series

Israel Jihad🕎

Index

 

Dedication

Preface

Chapter 1 Childhood

Chapter 2 Adolescence

Chapter 3 The Awareness

Chapter 4 The Metamorphosis

Chapter 5 The hypogeum of the ego

Chapter 6 The Chrysalis and the butterflies

Chapter 7 Bitcoin and CriptoLira

Chapter 8 Extra Omnes

Chapter 9 Cicada

Chapter 10 Code breaker Challenge

Chapter 11 Exit Strategy

Epilogue

Ariel Lilli

 

 

 

 

Dedication

"This is the best of all the possible worlds".

Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz

 

 

 

 

Preface

 

"Cicadas, sisters, in the sun, with you I hide; in the thick of the poplars; and wait for the stars."

 

A man leaves the house. This morning, New York is beautiful. The sky has swept away all the clouds of the past days. Last week's storm and rain have left their taste in the atmosphere. The wind that is channelled between the avenues, makes that trace of late summer back to the air. It's the light breeze blowing. The time of year when winter shyly overlooks the autumn in the Big Apple. The foliage of Central Park trees begins to turn orange. The first leaves fall silently to the ground. The summer that has just passed was more sultry than usual with its unexpected storms. The man is greeting his wife. Then he bends over her and kisses her on the stomach. Only a few weeks are left. Then, the fruit of their love will give their life a new meaning.

He will be her father.

Her hero.

In any case, it is because of his wife if they can afford to live within a stone's throw from the center. Thanks to her scholarship, they have rented a two-room apartment overlooking the park. A few meters from the most famous streets, where the lights shine twenty-four hours a day. He is of humble origins. They are located between the rich shop windows in the strategic heart that moves the economy of the world.

On the other hand, the wife’s mind is special. She was always the first to answer during her university classes.

First rank in all aptitude tests - a special gift that she has been able to cultivate. “She must have inherited that gift from her parents,” thought the man who had just closed the front door behind him.

****

A woman. His wife, a future mother is in the kitchen. She has just prepared breakfast for her husband. Every morning she sets her alarm clock to twenty minutes earlier than his. He is keen, despite the marriage, to not lose those habits that have always made them feel good. He also didn’t want the fact of being pregnant to be an obstacle neither to her daily routine, nor to their relationship.

Mexican cheese toast and orange juice are already on the table. Back when they were just two students at Yale, they used to meet in the large mansion on the campus every morning. That's where their first glances at each other began. Then, he took the first. "I saw that we attend the same course. Would you lend me your notes? "The excuse he had found to take a seat next to her was not that original. It took him a semester to summon up his courage and speak to her. But that bashfulness persistently struck him

He is so dark in skin, but so clear in the soul - with those big black eyes. The fact she was Jewish, and he was a Muslim, certainly could not be an obstacle for two young people who just tried to feel less lonely.

Sometimes, New York seems to engulf you in its mechanisms that regenerate day after day.

 

****

Sometimes, existence, fate or merely bad luck, could give you some cards which are difficult to play with on the table of life. It didn’t all go as perfectly as he had hoped. College, university, highest rank in economics.

Then, he came to the crossroads. The decision that marks the path of life. It's the dealer's next card, but he's not expecting it; he's sure he's holding some winning cards.

Her pregnancy, his career.

A choice. Bring home a salary to take care of his family? Or maybe just tighten the belt and hope that something or someone would change the direction of the match on the green table of fate.

The dealer gives out his cards without considering whether they are good or bad. He simply does his job.

So, the man collects his cards on the table of life. For him, his career as a lawyer would never have begun. He remembers the small studio in the anonymous basement of Staten Island, where it was too cold in winter and too humid in summer. Sometimes, the croaking of toads in the backyard of the house alternated with the noises that roared inside his belly. Too hungry. He cannot allow his wife, his family to grow up like that - the way he grew up.

Not his wife.

Not the woman he loves.

Not the fruit of their love.

It's time to get up, get involved and get a job. He learned for himself that all those lights and that wealth seen in the American television series, was perhaps valid for his classmates, who all came from noble families. He, however, was only the son of a Middle-Eastern emigrant.

Of course, he could not complain too much. Here no one made him feel different for his skin colour - being a little darker than his peers. The fact of being a Muslim then had not weighed too much during college exams. "Fortunately, we're not in Alabama," he joked with his wife right after graduation. His father had worked so hard to let him study. His chapped hands in winter, all those sandwiches, those drinks sold at the street corner, were just enough to pay for his tuition fees. At home, nonetheless, there was not always a hot meal for everyone. A father who left too soon, but who had always taught him the love for Allah and the respect for the great American democracy that allowed him to raise his family, maybe with a great scarcity, but with consistent honesty.

"Maybe the dealer gave me the right card this time," the man repeats to himself as he travels the few meters that separate him from one of the many subway stations. The father of a friend from university is an influential local politician. Thanks to an alert, and to his academically flawless (although devoid of work experience) résumé, that morning, he was on his way to his first day at work.

He knows he is not ready yet despite having spent the summer months practicing day and night. The books and the codes on the study table have left room to manuals that were much more practical than those he was used to studying, as well as the complete pinstripe suit of exams that remained on the crutch inside the closet.

FDNY Ladder 20

Compared to his slim body, the writing that appears before him looks like a giant on a metal plate, fixed with two rusty nails on a beam at the entrance of an anonymous palace in Queens.

"Come on boy, put on your helmet. We have to get to Manhattan." John, the team leader, told him with a friendly pat on his shoulder.

The rays of the sun, risen a few hours earlier, shine on the glass facades of skyscrapers. While the fire engine stops at a red traffic light during the usual morning traffic, a thousand thoughts and a thousand emotions pervade him on the inside.

Now he is a fireman.