Philip K. Dick

Philip K. Dick: Impostor

“One of these days I’m going to take time off,” Spence Olham said at first-meal. He looked around at his wife. “I think I’ve earned a rest. Ten years is a long time.” “And the Project?” “The war will be won without me. This ball of clay of ours isn’t

Kate Chopin

Kate Chopin: Désirée’s Baby

As the day was pleasant, Madame Valmondé drove over to L’Abri to see Désirée and the baby. It made her laugh to think of Désirée with a baby. Why, it seemed but yesterday that Désirée was little more than a baby herself; when Monsieur in riding through the gateway of

Jack London

Jack London: The Son of the Wolf

Man rarely places a proper valuation upon his womankind, at least not until deprived of them. He has no conception of the subtle atmosphere exhaled by the sex feminine, so long as he bathes in it; but let it be withdrawn, and an ever-growing void begins to manifest itself in

Jack London

Jack London: A Thousand Deaths

I HAD been in the water about an hour, and cold, exhausted, with a terrible cramp in my right calf, it seemed as though my hour had come. Fruitlessly struggling against the strong ebb tide, I had beheld the maddening procession of the water-front lights slip by, but now I