Humor	Science Fiction
“Side Effects” by Steve Martin From About Teens Short Fiction Do not pilot a plane, unless you are among the ten per cent of users who experience "spontaneous test-pilot knowledge." If your hair begins to smell like burning tires, move away from any buildings or populated areas, and apply tincture of iodine to the head until you no longer hear what could be taken for a "countdown." May cause stigmata in Mexicans. If a fungus starts to grow between your eyebrows, call the Guinness Book of World Records. May induce a tendency to compulsively repeat the phrase "no can do." This drug may cause visions of the Virgin Mary to appear in treetops. If this happens, open a souvenir shop.	“Love Thy Neighbor” by R.C. Smith From The Cybrary Fred walked to the last man at the bar. “Last, but not least, we have Joe.” Joe stood quickly and approached the stranger. As their eyes met, however, Joe’s demeanor changed. He suddenly seemed distant. He did, however, shake Payne’s hand. “Joe Snodgrass,” Joe stated plainly. There was clearly something about Payne he didn’t like. “Thomas Payne. Isn’t that the name of that Revolutionary writer?” “You seem to be better read than your friends, Mr. Snodgrass.” “I crack a book once in a while.” Joe walked behind the bar and refilled his mug from the beer tap. “You don’t get to be a successful businessman without knowing a little bit about the people.” “Indeed.” Payne took his seat and stared suspiciously at Joe.

Romance	Horror/Fright
“Beginnings” by Michael From The Short Story Page As I am sitting there, staring vacantly at the fire, I hear a soft voice whispering "Michael?". My pulse quickens as I turn to see Jim's beautiful wife standing in the doorway to the bedroom wearing only a T-shirt. I stand, and as I walk over to her, I see her lips tremble ever so slightly. Anticipation… ...Anticipation makes my entire body shiver with anticipation of the feel of your hands caressing me. I feel your fingers exploring my face, outlining my lips and tracing the line of my jaw. Your hands are strong, yet so gentle, and as they run down my shoulders and encircle my breasts, my nipples grow hard under the slightest touch of your tongue.	“The Devil In The Deep” by Klaus D. Yurk From Stories by The Doctor Out of the darkness came a drowning boy. Howard recognized him instantly. His brother Arnold had not been changed by the passing years. After fifteen years he still looked the same, and he was still drowning! He was paddling and flailing his arms wildly in a desperate attempt to get to the surface. But it was all in vain. Arnold Phillips was sinking instead of rising. Then he spotted Howard. Instantly an expression of hope came over his still boyish face. He held out his hands, clutching, pleading, helpless hands. His eyes begged, and his lips mouthed a silent, "Help Me." He was dying. Howard wanted to scream, but again, he could only watch his brother die, too petrified to move. He could not have moved a muscle to save life. Arnold's face distorted hideously into a death grimace as he fought for the last precious seconds. Then it was over. The eyes were open, but life had gone.
Mystery	Other Tales
“Dignity” by Gabriel Lampert From Blithe House Quarterly Finally, he came to the door. He was dressed in just his jeans, and it looked like he'd had a hard time getting them on. I could smell cigarettes, and I knew that Jimmy didn't smoke. That's when I finally figured out what was going on. Jimmy was entertaining, and here I was barging in on him. I must have blushed bright red, because then he knew that I knew. "I'm sorry, Jimmy, I'll come back some other time." "It's okay, Cas," he said. "I should have turned the light off." We both said goodbye but, as he was closing the door, I saw a pair of boots, really fine boots, "real reptile," as we used to say. I thought, well, maybe Jimmy does know how to dress up. Of course, now I know they were probably someone else's boots. I suppose I should have guessed it, but I didn't. If it hadn't been for the fire, I might have never known.	“Secret Lives of Plain and Glamorous People” by Dan Mancini From The Story Exchange I’m telling my damned fetal pig story. Don’t believe it. Talking to one of People Magazine's 50 Most Beautiful and I’m telling my fetal pig story. I should slow down on the Dom. Maybe I’ll switch to beer and then it’ll be just like an old college party. All we'd need is Marcus here, and Scott, and we could play a game of Quarters or Kings, just like the old days, me, Iz, Beck, Marcus, Scott. Thankfully, Elia brushes aside the fetal pig story and begins to talk about himself—what guys do best—especially this one.