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5 Stories All In One: BORING IS BEAUTIFUL, BORN AGAIN, DEAD NO MORE, HOW HELL WAS SOFTEND, KISSED BY THE MUSE
A collection of the following 5 stories:
BORING IS BEAUTIFUL
“Dad I can’t go into business with you” said Terry. “Why not, son, you have everything here. Yeah, you need to spend a few years learning the business, but eventually it’ll be yours. You’ll always have money and security.” Steve, did his best to mask his disappointment. “Dad, this is all too boring. Same old, same old. There’s no excitement here. I need some adventure in my life.”
Leo Leonetti was too handsome for his own good. When he walked into a room, everyone stopped talking – men and women – and simply gawked. It was as if some celestial God had walked into the room. He had been divorced 4 times by the time he was 30. Noone understood his good looks. His parents were not especially well formed, neither were the siblings. He was some kind of aberration in the gene pool. His publicist promoted him as the “blonde Elvis”.
DEAD NO MORE
“God gives and he takes away. Blessed is the name of the Lord”. Somehow this statement made him feel better. He still ached at the death of his son, but the ache was a little less acute. There was something comforting in the words of scripture. He repeated the statement a few more times. Definitely, a comforting presence was felt. Rabbi Koch had just returned from the cemetery. It was the 5 Yahrtzeit (anniversary) of Leibel’s death. th He had dutifully prayed the Yizkor and recited psalms at the gravesite
HOW HELL WAS SOFTEND
Vittorio Mantelli discovered his innate gift when he was 10 years old. A religious boy, the son of Italian immigrants, he attended church regularly with his parents. While not an especially good student in secular subjects, he was excellent in religious studies. He excelled in Sunday school and in bible classes. He loved the bible, especially the Old Testament, and would immerse himself in it. So great was his interest that he seriously considered becoming a priest.
KISSED BY THE MUSE
Springtime in New York. A particularly warm day for Spring. Not warm enough for air conditioning, but from his window he could see the strollers in Cental Park. The women wore shorts and the men were sleeveless. He was sitting in his study watching the scene. Every person had a drama, every person was a walking novel ready to be written. Clara, his maid walked in and fluttered around his desk.