In Lynda Sexson's "Turning," three old ladies visit a young boy, whose birthday it is, and tell him a collaborative story. It's an old one, about "The Emperor Who Had No Skin" and about three princesses who came to answer his riddle and hopefully be his wife. The little boy fathoms the riddle, and wishes he had a tail, which I'm sure you agree would be a grand thing to have.

The excellent David Forster Wallace contributes "Forever Overhead", a tale of rites of transition, of diving boards, and of the relativity of time outside versus time inside.

So which is the lie? Hard or soft? Silence or time?

The lie is that it's one or the other. A still, floating bee is moving faster than it can think. From overhead the sweetness drives it crazy.

Ethan Canin's "Angel of Mercy, Angel of Death" is another look at old age - birthdays then are more about loneliness, it seems, and of occasional visitors who enliven the day.

Andrea Lee's "The Birthday Present" reminds one of a Tinto Brass film, and not merely for its Italian setting. Flavia, a transplanted American housewife decides to give her husband an unusual present for his birthday. The story is an exploration of uxoriousness.

When has Ariel ever moved through the house in such freedom? It is exhilarating, and slightly appalling. And she receives the strange impression that this is the real reason she has staged this birthday stunt: to be alone and in conscious possession of the solitude she has accumulated over the years.

Raymond Carver's "The Bath" is tragic, about the birthday parties that never happen. It is somewhat incomplete, having been hacked away at by a "minimalist" editor, and was later expanded by the author as "A Small, Good Thing." But given the bleakness of this story, it is hard to imagine any redemption in a longer work.

"A Game Of Dice" is a chapter from the "Hotel Honolulu" by the very skilled Paul Theroux. It explores "the sadness of games" and of the nature of victors.

Claire Keegan's "Close to the Water's Edge" is an atmospheric, edgy piece, as only a 19-year-old could visualize the world. The period between 19 and 26 is a dangerous one to inhabit, and this story gives a glimpse why.

Lewis Robinson's "The Ride" is about bonding between absent fathers and sons, the maturity of men, and of the loneliness of growing up.

The collection provides a good example of the power of the short story to encapsulate life in all its evanescence and glittering danger, much like a Mikimoto pearl, perhaps. Savor these pearls well, and happy birthday.