Sci Fi
The Genius
Martin trundled the old Transit van through the township. There was a rattle above him as the boots of some poor decrepit corpses hung across the street, bounced along the roof of the cabin. He stuck his head out of the window and caught sight of the familiar crest of the Luddi People’s Republic. Martin tutted loudly, and shaking his head pontificated to no-one, “Well, that’s what you get…seceding from the web. What a bunch of cunts.” He spat a great globule of oily spittle out of the window, hacking afterwards, the remnants of the ant mother burrito still churning around his mouth since lunch, soaking into his beard. He wiped his face, rubbing his hand on the leather tactical waistcoat.
By Jonathan Heath5 years ago in Fiction
Video Killed the Radio Star
It was eleven when I climb the stairs to the tiny Montreal apartment my mother shared with my aunt. “I’m not too late?” I ask Obasan. She hesitates, shakes her head no. Not too late. My mother sits by the window, her slim build and erect posture accentuated by her sleeveless summer dress. She turns and smiles.
By Heidi Tabata5 years ago in Fiction
just here to observe
“Dani.” She turned to see the commander leaning out of his office door. “Yes, sir?” She wondered if he was finally going to settle the long-standing debate of her going out into the field. He swiveled his head to invite her inside his office. The door had almost closed before she reached it, but he held it open with his knuckles. His face was turned away from her as she pushed the door in, careful not to smack him in the face.
By Jillian Rivera5 years ago in Fiction
Due South
Day 6811 The Southedge shifted South 3.4 meters. The Northedge shifted South 3.4 meters. I wake up at the Southedge and hack at the frozen ground until it lets loose. My daughter packs the bedrolls. Rollers bring buckets down from the Northedge with hot earth and growth and I pray as they mix under my fingers. I plant my ten seeds, ten sprouts, ten saplings, and ten fruitlings neatly in the thawing ground. I look around to see my sisters doing the same.
By Michael Valdez5 years ago in Fiction
The Real Doctor of The Hanging City
“Guns an’ sex an’ ‘explosions an’ drugs an’ noise…. feckin’ loud noise. That’s how my bloody weekend went. And wing shark testosterin’ can’t forget that shite. Can still feel the feckin` bruise from the needle. That cunt Billy told me it’d be like nothin’ and ‘ere I am cupping my damn balls like they ain’t bloody attached no more. Sorry if you were expecting something different, Doc, but that’s how she wrote it.”
By William Newbigging5 years ago in Fiction
Wilson's Trailhead
The keening whir of a quadcopter sounded in the distance. A sentinel. Maia stood obediently, lifting the back of her wrist to her forehead in a salute that displayed the UV tattoo on her inner arm. The drone approached and scanned her. A green light flashed as her tattoo was confirmed to match her tracking chip.
By Penny Fuller5 years ago in Fiction
Lilly
She stood there staring at the rubble. The world around her now grey, barely any color. She began sifting through piles; not really sure what she was looking for. She stood up, sighed and glanced over – the partial sun reaching out a small beam hitting on an object; she walked over to find a heart-shaped locket peeking out of some charred paper. She bent down to pick it up; it was engraved “To my sweet Lilly, Love Dad.”
By Kari Kinzle5 years ago in Fiction
The Heart of Man
A wrinkled, thin, and strong hand gripped a large heart-shaped locket. The Locket nestled nicely into the palm of the woman's hand. Its once brilliant silver surface was now tarnished from over a hundred years of abuse--much like she was. The silver chain that was once complete was now incomplete--the gaps held together with string. Her memories were the same. Memories that were once clear and vivid seemed like dreams. Some were lost like the parts of this chain. But the missing pieces were filled in by the string of the ragged journal in front of her...penned by her own hand. She read to remember as much as possible for as long as possible. The world needed to remember. She read the words again. "I am Rin, and I saved the World...."
By Rick Collins5 years ago in Fiction
Annabelle's Locket
No one knew who the corpse was, all anyone could say for certain was that they were an annabelle. Though even that had raised some doubts over the years, for anyone could place a heart shaped locket on a corpse and shout “hey, see that morty!? See that locket around their neck!? They must be an annabelle!” They had no ID, or a corporate identity code tattooed on their ear, so the narrative of this person being some worthless annabelle was easy to believe; plus they had no dental records, and a DNA test gave similar results.
By Carter Vezina5 years ago in Fiction
