Solomon Kursh is literary narrative. The plot is tangible and gains clarity through practicality, recognition, and surrender. Spiritual life needs truth to make things whole and money to make ends meet.

A young man of promise in the late '60s veers to LSD and cosmic light. Stepping away from university to cult life, he steps into pastel jammies, chanting, dancing, and tingling finger cymbals. Passersby yell and laugh, and he laughs back, niched in bliss. Natural intelligence takes him to operational management as labor and meditation define purpose for years until...harsh truth drops like a turd in the punch bowl; a small one, but still. Would you like a cup?

He’d challenged the elders of his childhood. What did you do when you had the chance? The question comes back, calling for strange absolution and justice served.

Despairing a bleak future and potential wasted, he meditates on a bong like 1969 and phones a friend. The story resolves on challenge, endurance, and revelation.

Drawn on real time, Solomon Kursh reveals the '60s in nuance and character rarely available in material based on that era. As usual with Robert Wintner, irony, wicked humor, insight, and laugh-aloud aberration result in engaging entertainment.