short story is a work of fiction that is usually written in prose, often in narrative format.

This format tends to be more pointed than longer works of fiction, such as novellas (in the 20th and 21st century sense) and novels. Short story definitions based upon length differ somewhat even among professional writers, somewhat in part because of the fragmentation of the medium into genres. Since the short story format includes a wide range of genres and styles, the actual length is determined by the individual author's preference (or the story's actual needs in terms of creative trajectory or story arc) and the submission guidelines relevant to the story's actual market. Guidelines vary greatly among publishers.[1] Many short story writers define their work through a combination of creative, personal expression and artistic integrity. As a result, many attempt to resist categorization by genre as well as definition by numbers, finding such approaches limiting and counter-intuitive to artistic form and reasoning. As a result, definitions of the short story based upon length splinter even more when the writing process is taken into consideration.

A novel is a book of long narrative in literary prose. The genre has historical roots both in the fields of the medieval and early modern romance and in the tradition of the novella. The latter supplied the present generic term in the late 18th century. Further definition of the genre is historically difficult. The construction of the narrative, the plot, the way reality is created in the works of fiction, the fascination of the character study, and the use of language are usually discussed to show a novel's artistic merits. Most of these requirements were introduced in the 16th and 17th centuries in order to give fiction a justification outside the field of factual history. The individualism of the presentation makes the personal memoir and theautobiography the two closest relatives among the genres of modern histories.

Economics isn't just about money. It's about how we as a society distribute resources in the face of scarcity. The fundamental problem that economics seeks to address is: given the fact that nothing exists in unlimited supply we must make trade-offs. We make these trade-off decisions at the margin. The reason economics is so often considered to be a discipline dealing only with money is because in analyzing these decisions we must assign values to the cost and benefit of a given action. For ease of comparison, we tend to do this in monetary value, though we needn't. So, in short, it's important to study economics because it is an attempt to understand how society as a whole makes decisions. You can analyze absolutely anything--be it a policy decision or a relationship decision--with the tools of economics.

It was a beautiful night and the plaza presented a most animated aspect. Taking advantage of the freshness of the breeze and the splendor of the January moon, the people filled the fair to see, be seen, and amuse themselves. The music of the cosmoramas and the lights of the lanterns gave life and merriment to every one. Long rows of booths, brilliant with tinsel and gauds, exposed to view clusters of balls, masks strung by the eyes, tin toys, trains, carts, mechanical horses, carriages, steam-engines with diminutive boilers, Lilliputian tableware of porcelain, pine Nativities, dolls both foreign and domestic, the former red and smiling, the latter sad and pensive like little ladies beside gigantic children. The beating of drums, the roar of tin horns, the wheezy music of the accordions and the hand-organs, all mingled in a carnival concert, amid the coming and going of the crowd, pushing, stumbling over one another, with their faces turned toward the booths, so that the collisions were frequent and often amusing. The carriages were forced to move slowly, with the tab of the cocheros repeated every moment. Met and mingled government clerks, soldiers, friars, students, Chinese, girls with their mammas or aunts, all greeting, signaling, calling to one another merrily. Padre Camorra was in the seventh heaven at the sight of so many pretty girls. He stopped, looked back, nudged Ben-Zayb, chuckled and swore, saying, "And that one, and that one, my ink-slinger? And that one over there, what say you?" In his contentment he even fell to using the familiar tu toward his friend and adversary. Padre Salvi stared at him from time to time, but he took little note of Padre Salvi. On the contrary, he pretended to stumble so that he might brush against the girls, he winked and made eyes at them. "Puales!" he kept saying to himself. "When shall I be the curate of Quiapo?" Suddenly Ben-Zayb let go an oath, jumped aside, and slapped his hand on his arm; Padre Camorra in his excess of enthusiasm had pinched him. They were approaching a dazzling seorita who was attracting the attention of the whole plaza, and Padre Camorra, unable to restrain his delight, had taken Ben-Zayb's arm as a substitute for the girl's. It was Paulita Gomez, the prettiest of the pretty, in company with Isagani, followed by Doa Victorina. The young woman was resplendent in her beauty: all stopped and craned their necks, while they ceased their conversation and followed her with their eyes even Doa Victorina was respectfully saluted. Paulita was arrayed in a rich camisa and pauelo of embroidered pia, different from those she had worn that morning to the church. The gauzy texture of the pia set off her shapely head, and the Indians who saw her compared her to the moon surrounded by fleecy clouds. A silk rose-colored skirt, caught up in rich and graceful folds by her little hand, gave majesty to her erect figure, the movement of which, harmonizing with her curving neck, displayed all the triumphs of vanity and satisfied coquetry. Isagani appeared to be rather disgusted, for so many curious eyes fixed upon the beauty of his sweetheart annoyed him. The stares seemed to him robbery and the girl's smiles faithlessness. Juanito saw her and his hump increased when he spoke to her. Paulita replied negligently, while Doa Victorina called to him, for Juanito was her favorite, she preferring him to Isagani. "What a girl, what a girl!" muttered the entranced Padre Camorra. "Come, Padre, pinch yourself and let me alone," said Ben-Zayb fretfully.

"What a girl, what a girl!" repeated the friar. "And she has for a sweetheart a pupil of mine, the boy I had the quarrel with." "Just my luck that she's not of my town," he added, after turning his head several times to follow her with his looks. He was even tempted to leave his companions to follow the girl, and Ben-Zayb had difficulty in dissuading him. Paulita's beautiful figure moved on, her graceful little head nodding with inborn coquetry. Our promenaders kept on their way, not without sighs on the part of the friar-artilleryman, until they reached a booth surrounded by sightseers, who quickly made way for them. It was a shop of little wooden figures, of local manufacture, representing in all shapes and sizes the costumes, races, and occupations of the country: Indians, Spaniards, Chinese, mestizos, friars, clergymen, government clerks, gobernadorcillos, students, soldiers, and so on. Whether the artists had more affection for the priests, the folds of whose habits were better suited to their esthetic purposes, or whether the friars, holding such an important place in Philippine life, engaged the attention of the sculptor more, the fact was that, for one cause or another, images of them abounded, well-turned and finished, representing them in the sublimest moments of their lives the opposite of what is done in Europe, where they are pictured as sleeping on casks of wine, playing cards, emptying tankards, rousing themselves to gaiety, or patting the cheeks of a buxom girl. No, the friars of the Philippines were different: elegant, handsome, well-dressed, their tonsures neatly shaven, their features symmetrical and serene, their gaze meditative, their expression saintly, somewhat rosy-cheeked, cane in hand and patent-leather shoes on their feet, inviting adoration and a place in a glass case. Instead of the symbols of gluttony and incontinence of their brethren in Europe, those of Manila carried the book, the crucifix, and the palm of martyrdom; instead of kissing the simple country lasses, those of Manila gravely extended the hand to be kissed by children and grown men doubled over almost to kneeling; instead of the full refectory and dining-hall, their stage in Europe, in Manila they had the oratory, the study-table; instead of the mendicant friar who goes from door to door with his donkey and sack, begging alms, the friars of the Philippines scattered gold from full hands among the miserable Indians. "Look, here's Padre Camorra!" exclaimed Ben-Zayb, upon whom the effect of the champagne still lingered. He pointed to a picture of a lean friar of thoughtful mien who was seated at a table with his head resting on the palm of his hand, apparently writing a sermon by the light of a lamp. The contrast suggested drew laughter from the crowd. Padre Camorra, who had already forgotten about Paulita, saw what was meant and laughing his clownish laugh, asked in turn, "Whom does this other figure resemble, Ben-Zayb?" It was an old woman with one eye, with disheveled hair, seated on the ground like an Indian idol, ironing clothes. The sad-iron was carefully imitated, being of copper with coals of red tinsel and smokewreaths of dirty twisted cotton. "Eh, Ben-Zayb, it wasn't a fool who designed that" asked Padre Camorra with a laugh. "Well, I don't see the point," replied the journalist "But, puales, don't you see the title, The Philippine Press? That utensil with which the old woman is ironing is here called the press!"

All laughed at this, Ben-Zayb himself joining in good-naturedly. Two soldiers of the Civil Guard, appropriately labeled, were placed behind a man who was tightly bound and had his face covered by his hat. It was entitled The Country of Abaka,39 and from appearances they were going to shoot him. Many of our visitors were displeased with the exhibition. They talked of rules of art, they sought proportion one said that this figure did not have seven heads, that the face lacked a nose, having only three, all of which made Padre Camorra somewhat thoughtful, for he did not comprehend how a figure, to be correct, need have four noses and seven heads. Others said, if they were muscular, that they could not be Indians; still others remarked that it was not sculpture, but mere carpentry. Each added his spoonful of criticism, until Padre Camorra, not to be outdone, ventured to ask for at least thirty legs for each doll, because, if the others wanted noses, couldn't he require feet? So they fell to discussing whether the Indian had or had not any aptitude for sculpture, and whether it would be advisable to encourage that art, until there arose a general dispute, which was cut short by Don Custodio's declaration that the Indians had the aptitude, but that they should devote themselves exclusively to the manufacture of saints. "One would say," observed Ben-Zayb, who was full of bright ideas that night, "that this Chinaman is Quiroga, but on close examination it looks like Padre Irene. And what do you say about that British Indian? He looks like Simoun!" Fresh peals of laughter resounded, while Padre Irene rubbed his nose. "That's right!" "It's the very image of him!" "But where is Simoun? Simoun should buy it." But the jeweler had disappeared, unnoticed by any one. "Puales!" exclaimed Padre Camorra, "how stingy the American is! He's afraid we would make him pay the admission for all of us into Mr. Leeds' show." "No!" rejoined Ben-Zayb, "what he's afraid of is that he'll compromise himself. He may have foreseen the joke in store for his friend Mr. Leeds and has got out of the way." Thus, without purchasing the least trifle, they continued on their way to see the famous sphinx. BenZayb offered to manage the affair, for the American would not rebuff a journalist who could take revenge in an unfavorable article. "You'll see that it's all a question of mirrors," he said, "because, you see " Again he plunged into a long demonstration, and as he had no mirrors at hand to discredit his theory he tangled himself up in all kinds of blunders and wound up by not knowing himself what he was saying. "In short, you'll see how it's all a question of optics."

The examination of the variety of problems that can arise from the business environment, and how employees, management, and the corporation can deal with them ethically. Problems such asfiduciaryresponsibility,corporate social responsibility, corporate governance, shareholder relations, insider trading, bribery and discrimination are examined in business ethics. Business ethics (also known as corporate ethics) is a form of applied ethics or professional ethics that examines ethical principles and moral or ethical problems that arise in a business environment. It applies to all aspects of business conduct and is relevant to the conduct of individuals and entire organizations. Business ethics has both normative and descriptive dimensions. As a corporate practice and a career specialization, the field is primarily normative. Academics attempting to understand business behavior employ descriptive methods. The range and quantity of business ethical issues reflects the interaction of profit-maximizing behavior with non-economic concerns. Interest in business ethics accelerated dramatically during the 1980s and 1990s, both within major corporations and within academia. For example, today most major corporations promote their commitment to non-economic values under headings such as ethics codes and social responsibility charters. Adam Smith said, "People of the same trade seldom meet together, even for merriment and diversion, but the conversation ends in a conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to raise prices."[1] Governments use laws and regulations to point business behavior in what they perceive to be beneficial directions. Ethics implicitly regulates areas and details of behavior that lie beyond governmental control.[2] The emergence of large corporations with limited relationships and sensitivity to the communities in which they operate accelerated the development of formal ethics regimes.[3]
The plurality of languages and ethnicities, the geographic fragmentation, the predominant Roman Catholic religion, together with the still relatively short experience in nationhood account for a very peculiar understanding of "business ethics" in the Philippines. The rapid growth and liberalization of the economy, coupled with the inequitable distribution of wealth, the destruction of the environment and corruption are the main ethical concerns. Businesspersons and the academe endeavor to find creative solutions for these unique challenges.

The Nightmare of Tora-Tora By Johnnie Lim

1975, in Pasil, Sulu, Philippines - The sky was clear, cloudless and crystal-like. The blazing heat of the sun glittered on the riverbank. But a brief rain shower forced Pindatun and I to stay under the Wanni tree. Then in a while, an awesome rainbow became visible. AbdelAbdel!" A familiar voice echoed from a distance. It was not unusual to hear babuh Insih calling me that way. Her voice disturbed the flocks that were taking time on top of the Buwahan trees. It was louder than before.Abs, you are called. We will just continue hunting for birds later in the afternoon," Pindatun suggested. But I guess its not yet time to eat, I exclaimed. Maybe shes taking you to town, Pindatun explained. Town? She didnt mention anything like that to me, I emphasized. Mother told me last night that the barangay captains son is going to marry today. I know that she will go together with your babuh Insih, Pindatun confirmed.So I hurriedly ran to where my babuh Insih's voice came from. Im here! I shouted. You should have not gone too far from the house, Abdel, babuh Insih explained. Come with me. We will go to Utoh Askalis house. His eldest son is going to get marry today. AndI am invited to sing the lugu. She continued.

II

Almost all of the visitors were having fun in that Pag-imun-imun. Everyone was there. It was so happy to see familiar faces around. Pindatun was also there. He was carrying his fathers Armalite. So I joined him sitting in front of a long table where native pastries were served such as; Bang-Bang Hantak, Sasagun, Bawlu, Panganan, Durul, Jah, Pitis, Daral, Pasung, Jualan and many others. We ate some and I noticed that each of us was given three glasses of beverage. The first glass was filled with coffee, the second was filled with tea and the third was filled with water.Later, the parkalah was full of luruk coming from the neighborhood. Many of them were armed men. Each of them carried a gun. But it was no longer new to my sight. Women glittered in colorful outfits with very exaggerating pieces of jewelry which I was so sure were made of gold.Look Abs, those ladies are going to dance the Pangalay. Lets go closer and take a look, Pindatun invited.Three ladies in colorful Sawwal and Batawi danced gracefully. They were accompanied by a traditional music played by four men who were sitting side by side. A beautiful sound of kulintangan, tabungguh, gandang and agong blended together. Few minutes later, a man walked around the ladies and put or clipped some paper bills on their shoulder as a form of appreciation for a good performance. He was Datu Al-Mujiv, the groom. It was followed by his father and brothers. Then, some of the luruk also did the same.

III

Abdel, a voice called me. But this time, it was a mans voice. We have to leave this place as soon as possible. The military are heading to this place. Pindatun reported. But where are we going? Its too dark out there. Why dont we just sleep in this paksul and wait till the morning comes? I explained. Theres no time to argue, Abdel. Everyone is moving now, Pindatun emphasized. We have to leave this place. Lets go! babuh Insih declared. I was so reluctant to come out of the paksul. We only had lingered in it for a while and it was too tiresome moving from one place to another. It seemed like an endless caravan with no definite destination. My feet almost swelled with pain that night. And so was my stomach. I was still sitting with my back leaning against the wall of the un-concrete dark and smelly paksul. Get out of it now! They are coming closer.Hurry! Pindatun urged. Suddenly a big blast broke the silence that night jerking every corner of the place. It was followed by another terrifying sound that cut several Coconut trees. The tapahan were blazing in fire. Houses were destroyed. In my mind, I could see a giant demon amidst the blazing fire. A demon who devours anything or anyone he encounters in his way. The sight was so frightening. And I couldnt remember how I managed to jump out of that deep excavation when another bomb was dropped by that scarry aircraft. And before the third bomb exploded, I found myself running toward the darkest jungle. There I saw a number of people fleeing to the same direction.Shivering.trembling. And though it wasnt easy to recognize anyone, I knew they were families who left their homes and property. The horrible sound of the fatal weapons continued. RunRun! An old man from the group shouted vigorously. In fear and confusion, he ran away while shouting "Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!". At my age, I thought he got a good idea in doing that. But in no time, he fell down and died....Helpless. So everyone sat down in silence...Wishing that it was over. Wishing that angels would come to save us...but, there was none. Angels were deaf and blind that night. In my mind, as I looked at the stars in the sky and listened to the cry of the hungry children, I supposed that God was fast asleep for prayers were not answered either. Only the hope itself remained as the weapon in everyone's heart. The hope to survive. The hope to live. This was the weapon that made us fearless. The priceless weapon that gave no room for the fear to conquer our mind. So under the trees we sat in silence...Helpless but determined. Then in another big paksul again we safely hid ourselves and waited till the morning came.

IV

Everything was still fresh in my mind. The scene was as clear as babuh Insihs enchanting voice that echoed around as she sang the Lugu. The food was so inviting that I couldnt resist until I felt something strange in my tummy, a call of nature. So together with Pindatun, I quickly looked for a big tree at the backyard where I could dispose my waste. And finally, we made it with no interruption. I could still hear the lugu of babuh Insih, the sound of Kulintangan and the laughter of every luruk. Are you done? Pindatun asked. Yes! I replied. But theres no water here, I complained. Is that a problem? Look, theres a lot of coffee leaves around, Pindatun laughed.But the feast turned bloody when a Tora-Tora swiftly passed over and dropped a bomb. At an instant, a frightening sound burst into the ground. By and by, the dust filled the air. Lailaha Illallah! A man shouted in the house. Pindatun and I were very lucky. We kept on hiding under a big Durian tree. We knew that many were injured...many died. That was the last day I heard the enchanting voice of my babuh Insih. The voice which I sometimes hated to hear whenever she told me not to hang around with friends. But at that moment, I missed her. I wished I could turn back time but it's over.

Where are you going, ama? My young boy asked. To the market place. Where is your ina? I inquired. Shes in the neighborhood. Arent you coming with us, ama? My son continued. Why, where do you plan to go with your inah, Salih? I investigated. To the next street. The counselor is going to celebrate his sons pagkawin today. Salih explained.

Vocabulary Guide

1. Agong is different from a typical royalty gong. It is a basin-like metal musical instrument usually hit at the back to produce sound. 2. ama - means father 3. babu means aunt 4. bang-bang means biscuit or pastry 5. Batawi is a blouse usually accentuated with artistic golden or silver buttons called Tambuku by the natives . 6. Bawlu is one of the Tausug pastries similar to a cup cake. 7. Buwahan - means lanzones 8. Daral is one of the Tausug pastries made of grated coconut meat cooked with brown sugar and wrapped with a lumpia-like wrapper. 9. Durul is one of the Tausug pastries. It is soft and black in appearance wrapped with dry Banana leaves varying in sizes. 10. Hantak is one of the Tausug biscuits rolled in white sugar. 11. Ina means mother 12. Jah is one of the Tausug pastries made of rice flour with sugar. It is deep- fried in artistic way shaped into a cigarette-like. In Luuk, it is shaped like a triangle. 13. Juwalan is fried Banana split. 14. Kulintangan is a musical instrument composed of round metal plates arranged on strings according to size supported by a boat-like wooden stand. 15. Lugu is a chant usually sung during Mauluddin Nabi to celebrate the birth of Prophet Mohammad (S.A.W.). 16. Luruk- means visitor

17. Pag imun- imun means gathering 18. Pagkawin means wedding 19. Paksul - is a deep excavation usually found underneath a house where natives hide to keep themselves safe from gunshots or any bomb blast. 20. Pangalay is a native dance in Sulu usually assisted by musical background of Kulintangan, Agong and Tabunggu when performed. Now, musical background is available in CDs. 21. Panganan- is one of the Tausug pastries made of roast corn flour mixed with common flour and sugar rolled in different stylish shapes. It is usually black in appearance. 22. Panyam- is one of the Tausug pastries made of rice flour with sugar and natural flavoring usually comes from Durian. It is deep fried in different sizes. The largest panyam is found in Luuk. 23. Parkala means occasion 24. Pasung is one of the Tausug pastries made of rice flour with sugar wrapped with Banana leaves in cone shape and steamed. The color varies. It is brown if brown sugar is used. It is white if white sugar is used. 25. Pitis is one of the Tausug pastries made of special black rice flour called Putan with sugar and coconut milk wrapped with Banana leaves. 26. Sasagun- is one of the Tausug biscuit made of common flour and corn flour with sugar which when eaten easily melts in the mouth. 27. Sawwal- is a loose square pants of varied colors usually worn during Muslim holidays and wedding. 28. Tabunggu- is a musical instrument made of wooden tube-like of which the upper and the lower parts are covered with animal hide usually of cow which when hit produce sound. 29. Tapahan is a semi house-like where natives partially cook coconut meat by means of allowing the smoke to dry the meat before drying them under the heat of the sun and later be sold to the Abaca dealer

30. Wanni is a mango-like fruit commonly found in Sulu