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TWINS A short story of many pairs of twins separated on two identical islands in the South Pacific. A hilarious comedy of errors. The Genie A fantasy -- but don't read it if you want your own fantasies left intact! The Time Warp Under My Kitchen Sink An alternative introduction to Baruch's book, The Emissary, but he decided not to use it. It's posted here instead. Rhymes and Limerics by Baruch See what Uncle Baruch calls "poetry" Down load page ...where the above short stories can be downloaded for free personal use

Jesus Down Under A Series Of Short Stories By David Skeat Jesus is portrayed as an Australian who is at home and relaxed about wearing an Akubra hat and mole skins EXCERPT One of the best fishing spots in Australia is Tasmania. Jesus and His mates were in Tassie for a few days. After visiting people and speaking at churches Jesus felt like a break. It was Pete who suggested that they go fishing for a day or so at Lake Petter, just for a rest. So Jesus, Pete, Jimbo and John went fishing. When they arrived at Petter they hired a boat, loaded their tackle on board and off they went. After about an hour they found a good looking spot where there was enough shelter to make a decent camp. Jimbo and Jesus set up the tents, Pete checked over the fishing gear, and John (who was the youngest) made a fire and cooked the tea. That night as they sat around the camp fire, Pete, who'd had a little fishing experience, started to brag about all the fish he had caught, and of course the ones that got away. John and Jimbo seemed very impressed by Pete's bragging, but Jesus just sat there and listened. Early the next morning as the trout were rising, Pete, Jimbo and John got in the boat and gently rowed out a little way from shore. Jesus said He didn't feel like fishing this morning. All morning Pete, Jimbo and John cast their flies. They tried spinners and even bait but all to no avail - the fish were just not interested. Finally around 10 o'clock they decided to come in. As they rowed in, Jesus came to the edge of the water. "How'd you go?" He called. "No luck," replied Pete. "They're just not biting." "Cast your fly to the left of the boat," called Jesus, "and you'll get a bite." Pete was a little disgruntled at Jesus' words, but he picked up his rod and cast the fly where Jesus had told him. Now Pete was sitting at the edge of the boat and as soon as the fly hit the water there was such a large strike on the end of the line that it pulled Pete right out of the boat. Fortunately they were not far from shore and the water was only up to Pete's waist. Pete stood up still clutching his rod, which was bending furiously. "Don't just stand there," Jesus laughed, "reel 'er in." From that time on Pete had to work hard at trying to land the monster at the end of his line. It took him two hours. And when at last the three Rainbow Trout lay exhausted at his feet, Pete was so tired that he had to get John to help him drag them ashore. When they got to shore Jesus stood there laughing. "You know Pete," He laughed, "you should have seen your face when that thing pulled you out of the boat - good thing it wasn't a marlin or you'd still be water-skiing!" They all laughed - even Pete could see the funny side now. After things had quietened down Pete said to Jesus, "You can't tell me that was an accident Jesus, I was only using a 6 pound leader line." "It wasn't," said Jesus, "but you needed to learn a few things." "Like what?" enquired Pete. "Well firstly," said Jesus, "you needed to know that I can come through even when you can't. I can do the impossible. Secondly, you needed to learn to be a stayer, someone who won't give up." "Yeah, yeah," said Pete in a somewhat bored tone of voice. Stories by Baruch's Auntie by Claralice Wolf Uncle Baruch's Aunt Clus (his mom's twin sister), writes some captivating stories from the point of view of some of the nameless women who knew Jesus: SAMPLE THE GOOD NEWS FROM ST PETERS WIFE Claralice Wolf I miss Simon. These last years he has been away more than he has been home, and I don't always know where he is. But life is more serene, and I don't mind that. I was getting too old for all the confusion, the comings and goings. Well, I'll start at the beginning Simon married me when I was sixteen, and right away the children began coming. Those were happy years. I love children. Seven, we had, four boys and three girls. When our fifth, Miriam, was born, my father died and my mother came to live with us. She loved to cook, so her help made housekeeping easier for me. She was a wonderful companion Simon always plunged impetuously into everything he did. Like a boy. Too often without thinking. He was like another child in the house. I often said to Mama, "Will he never grow up But I love him. And he did. Grow up, that is Yes, yes, you asked me about how I came to know JesusIt began the day he came to our house. Mama had been real sick, and the newest baby - lets see, that was number six, Joel - he was only four months old - so I had had my hands full managing all alone and nursing Mama, too. It was the Sabbath, and of course I could not leave the house to go to Synagogue. Simon went and took Nathan and Jude They were late returning. Suddenly the boys burst in at the door, more excited than usual, and the younger children dashed to the door to greet their Aba, then immediately turned shy because he had brought a stranger with him They weren't shy long. The stranger was as friendly as my kids, dropping to rest on his heels so he could look them in the eyes. Miriam was trying to snuggle onto his knee, and nearly knocked him over Simon just stood there with that sheepish look on his face that he gets when he realizes he has "done it again," but that he "can explain." I felt cross. Had he stopped to think of how sick mother was before he invited a stranger home? Did he expect me to prepare a meal? He knew I was tired. He knew that I hated to miss Sabbath service. He knew how much I liked seeing and talking to my friends, and - well, you know how a woman feels when it all piles up My face, no doubt, showed my anger, but oh, I'm so glad I said no unkind words in haste The man stood up, shaking off children, and looked at me. His eyes held such understanding and sympathy "You have beautiful children," he said.

The Redfeather Chronicles From Catropolis, the kingdom that brought us Saint Catrick, comes a scholarly work written by no less than a hen named Redfeather, with insights into the ways of dogs and sheep Of Dogs and Sheep -- A Neutral Perspective Mrs. Redfeather's initial article on the subject, reprinted her with permission, from The Chicken Scratch, a highly intelectual journal for chickens (our appologies if some of the material is over the heads of non-chickens) Mrs. Redfeather's Diary ... in which Mrs. Redfeather goes to meet a shepherd whom Baaa Baaa Black Sheep has said is actually a sheep himself The Three Bears ... in which Mrs. Redfeather and Baaa Baaa Black Sheep visit the Three Bears, and witness the healing of a broken shepherd A Couple of Excerpts: [Editors note: The following was written by none less than a chicken, writing under the nom de plume of 'Redfeather'. As her nom indicates, the plume, with which she writes is red (plucked from her own tail, as a matter of fact). Being a chicken, our newer readers ought to be made to understand that she does tend to ramble, as chickens do, as the attention span of the average chicken is very short, so chickens don't tend to stick to the same subject for very long (of course, it goes without saying that attention span has absolutely nothing to do with I.Q.), all of which I said in order to say this: did you know that most pigs are of Latin extraction? This would explain...] ...throughout all of history, flocks of sheep have always been shepherded by dogs, because dogs are the ones most capable of keeping the silly creatures under control (we know sheep are silly because dogs unanimously attest to that fact). ...the rule has always been that flocks of sheep are shepherded by dogs. Lutheran flocks are shepherded by German shepherds; Anglicans, by cocker spaniels and bull dogs; Catholics, by St. Bernards and Irish setters; Presbyterians, by Scottish terriers; Baptists and Pentecostals by mongrels and pye dogs; independent interdenominational flocks, by pit bulls ... ... much of my information was given to me by a dear friend answering to the name of Baaa Baaa Black Sheep ... so named because he was the black sheep of the family. In fact, he's often been called a 'wolf in sheep's clothing'. His own reply to that is, a black sheep is far from being a wolf, even one in sheep's clothing. A black sheep is, after all a sheep, whereas a wolf, even one in sheep's clothing, is after all, a wolf...