Reproduction of the original.

Intelligence comes from ignorance as wisdom comes from naivet and there is nothing like gathering both from people who represent a diverse swath of nations throughout the world. As cultures require contact with each other in order to grow and remain viable, and not succumb to atrophy, man too requires contact with men of different beliefs and practices. No one nation or culture or religion has a hold on logic or is immune to extremism. I feel blessed that Ive had the opportunity to absorb and learn about aspects of life that Im sure I wouldnt have learned otherwise. In fact, my whole belief system was changed over the past forty-five years through this contact. I began to do some research on my family and what I learned, coupled with what I had experienced in my life, literally brought me to tears in gratitude and admiration, and hopefully in wisdom. If you like to sit down and listen to stories told by, say, an old friend, an uncle, or a person with wrinkles on his face, grey in his hair, and a sparkle of wisdom in his eyes, coupled with a smile on his face, then you should so bother. If you dont, then stop right here and go pick up and read a book on vampires or loves lost or whatever turns your fancy. My life has been tragic and wondrous and I have what I call life lessons that I believe you will find helpful in your life. Ill even go so far as to say that, given even a fraction of introspection in you, your life will be significantly altered after youve read this book. I know that doesnt sound humble but I also know this to be true. I have learned, forgot, and made up many a good story. Keep this in mind when you read these chapters (stories) compiled within this book. Are they all true? Mostly, with only the most embarrassing events removed. An old retired Air Force fighter pilot once told me I have secrets only God and I know and thats the way it will remain.

In a land of wind and willows, two canoeists encounter some other-worldly wind turbines. From The Sentinels: Dunn: He said that he was taking the way of the wind and the sky, and that he was going in—to Them—by which I presume he meant going into the tower and scaling the ladder. And he said other things: That our thoughts made patterns in their world—left ‘prints,’ as it were—as did theirs in ours; and that that was how they’d found us, by listening to our thoughts, zeroing in on our patterns. And he said that Bobby was merely a bundle of sensory organs wrapped in a skin of decaying matter and so wasn’t important, wasn’t needed. That only they mattered—they, the beings attached to and inhabiting the turbines. And that … that … Detective Shaw: What, Mrs. Dunn? Say it. Dunn: But … don’t you see? It doesn’t matter what he said, because it wasn’t him speaking, not really. Bobby would never have described a human being as just a bundle of sensory organs; he truly believed, with every fiber of his being, that we were more than that—more than just the sum of our parts—it was what inspired him to become a doctor in the first place. And knowing what I knew, knowing what kind of man he was, I pressed him, telling him that Bobby did matter—that he mattered to his patients and that he mattered to me—more than I would ever be able to describe. And then I approached him and embraced him and told him I loved him—feeling, for the briefest of moments, the spirals beginning to close on his back—and he smiled, his eyes returning to normal, after which he said, or started to say, “I love …” (room tone) Detective Shaw: (inaudible) He—he told you he loved you? Dunn: No. He … his eyes rolled back … and then his face, it … it simply imploded. In a spiral. Like someone had flushed a toilet full of blood and brains.

What Remains collects Christa Wolf's short fiction, from early work in the sixties to the widely debated title story, first published in Germany in 1990. Addressing a wide range of topics, from sexual politics to the nature of memory, these powerful and often very personal stories offer a fascinating introduction to Wolf's work. What Remains and Other Stories . . . is clear and farsighted. The eight heartfelt stories in the book show why she has been respected as a serious author since her 1968 novel, The Quest for Christa T. . . . Wolf uses her own experiences and observations to create universal themes about the controls upon human freedom.—Herbert Mitgang, New York Times Christa Wolf has set herself nothing less than the task of exploring what it is to be a conscious human being alive in a moment of history.—Mary Gordon, New York Times Book Review The simultaneous publication of these two volumes offers readers here a generous sampling of the short fiction, speeches and essays that Wolf has produced over the last three decades.—Mark Harman, Boston Globe

The original story upon which the film Shadows in the Garden is based ... and 7 other tales. A vignette of dream shimmers briefly in my mind. I remember I was crouched in a dark yard, this yard—staring at that same clothesline. I was cold, so cold, and frightened, and I didn't know why. It was far too dark to see anything clearly. I could tell only that there was something hung from the line. Approaching it, I saw how it swung back and forth in the night-wind heavily. It wasn't until I was close enough almost to touch it that I realized what it was. It was the pale woman's head …

From mad scientists to familiar aliens, to Irish gods who only go on Halloween dates, and the odd dragon making an unexpected appearance, they’re all here in this collection of micro-, flash- and short-fiction. Meet the shape-shifters and the scientists who just may be able take some tails too far. There’s the depressed love-lorn lady who meets a surfer-dude of note, and the cookbook writer hosting the Dark Man of Erskine. Have a beer with the geologist who knows their unalienable right, while you try to spot Medusa, if you can. And if it’s all too much, let the ELFs save you, or find your most cost-effective way to Mars. This collection of Leenna’s short fiction includes works both previously published, and never-before seen. There’s something for the holidays, the dreary days and those strange days too.

Reproduction of the original: Christmas Roses and Other Stories by Anne Douglas Sedgwick

The fourteen short stories collected in this volume were written between 1913 and 1921, most of them against the background of the 1914-18 War. All but one were published in slightly different versions by magazines and periodicals on both sides of the Atlantic. Ten were selected and revised by Lawrence for his collection England, My England published in 1922 in the United States and 1924 in Britain. Some of the stories included in this volume are "Tickets Please", "The Blind Man", "Monkey Nuts", "Wintry Peacock", "Hadrian", "Samson and Delilah", "The Primrose Path", "The Horse-Dealer's Daughter", and "The Last Straw". The texts aim to recover Lawrence's own intentions, which editors and publishers all too frequently ignored or altered. Where possible, manuscripts and corrected typescripts are used as base-texts. The introduction traces the composition and revision of the stories, setting them in the context of Lawrence's life and work. The textual apparatus gives variant readings, and explanatory notes identify sources, references and quotations. The 1915 version of "England, My England" is given in an appendix.

While at a party organized by the lieutenant of his regiment, the shy and awkward Ryabovitch is suddenly kissed by an unknown woman in a dark room. This unexpected and electrifying encounter marks a turning point in his life and a shift in his personality, arousing his passions and setting him on a desperate quest to discover the identity of the mysterious lady.One of Chekhov's most admired stories, 'The Kiss' is joined in this volume by five equally celebrated tales in a brand-new translation by Hugh Aplin: 'The Lady with the Little Dog', 'Ward Number Six', 'The Black Monk', 'The House with the Mezzanine' and 'The Peasants' - making this an indispensable collection for those wanting to discover Chekhov at his creative best.