This is a collection of short stories about misfits, geniuses and intellectual snobs always seem to find their way to their heavens or hells. Each story is preceded by a companion poem.
One boy elieves it is nine inches across the Atlantic Ocean; another desperatedly seeks salvation for his beloved grandfather; a mountain of ashes mixes with bits of bone; a blow up doll/ a starving child; an exotic dancer/ a grieving rabbi; a man who discovers that some friends are close enough to fight for, but others not close enough to kill; that some good deeds do go unpunished; that golf and God start with the same letter: these are just a few of the characters who seek universal answers to timeless questions in MIND TRAVELS, by B. B. Riefner
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gno5cZK8RaU
Excerpt
Truth In Nakedness
Admiration. Fascination. Lust. Concentration. Infatuation. All applied and only partially described the emotions men experience watching Shirley Bordellos emerge from an automobile. As Shirley, who pronounced it Shorely in her deeply etched New Jersey accent, stepped forth males and even a few females became visually transfixed by her physical perfection.
At this instant Shirley is sliding her overly long and perfectly shaped leg out of his vintage 1953 Nash Healy Convertible. Street Norris resists the visual delight and lets his eyes drift to the portly middle-aged neighbor watering his extensive flower gardens and gives him a slight disapproving shake when it is obvious the neighbor is so lost in his observations. He isn’t only drowning his roses, he’s also destroying their lovely blooms.
Even though she was fully clothed, Shirley emerged from her seat more naked than Botticelli’s Venus Rising. The pale grape purple dress embraced her so tightly it looked as though it had been sprayed on. Her hair and three inch spiked heels matched the dress exactly. Carefully Street closed the door and waved to the gardener. “She’s really something, ain’t she?” he called, delighted when the fellow ducked his head and half turned to the drowning roses. The move reminded him of a child caught committing a social taboo. ”But you think she’s worth losing both your garden and happy home for?” he called out even louder. Now his back was facing Steet who grinned when Shirley asked him not to be so nasty. Undeterred he concluded chastising the man with, “You don’t stand a chance, Buster. She’s well read and likes discussing politics and religion.”
Professional Reviews
Jennifer Polhemus, featured artist: Harrington Fictions Quarterly & the Knoxville Writers Guild Literary Lunch Anthology
"Dreams glitter like mice and death is a question of friendship, or the misunderstanding of it. In this collection of short stories, B. B. Riefner manages to weave a tapestry of poetry and prose out of bits of blood and bone from wars and a child's imagination. Hold on for a ride of mind warping proportions!
satnrose
These are stories not for children. Most writers begin writing in a state of immaturity that they never grow out of completely. B. B. Riefner, like Joseph Conrad, became a man before eh became a poet, and his stories are irises you unfold at your peril, only to find an angry bee within.
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