Antony Peachey
Bio
I am an aspiring non-fiction author and have completed two books to date. These (not leftist inspired) short story submissions are my initial attempts at fiction. Hope you enjoy - not that you'll be shown them on this site.
Stories (2/0)
How I Became a Domestic Terrorist
As I begin to write this piece it is 4:30am on a Tuesday morning, and as usual I can’t sleep. Every day around this time, over the last 15 years, I wake up for the same reason. I wake up to my thoughts racing at break neck speed, my eyes watering, reacting to the stabbing pain of a large sliver embedded within my mind, one that affects every aspect of my life and has for years. It is the same sliver that continuously occupies my thoughts, directs my attention, and causes massive amounts of pain, anxiety and restlessness. The righteous anger of injustice is persistent and relentless, it affords me no peace; I haven’t been in a good mood in years. It has been a long time since my family and I had to endure the nightmarish hell that made all this happen…but I am not alone. Everyday people across the country have to come to terms with highly traumatic events that have occurred in their lives, and it is not easy. It is a daily struggle, often one that lasts a lifetime - some memories just don’t fade.
By Antony Peachey3 years ago in Criminal
The Blue Glow of Control
Inside of domicile #642-B its primary occupant Xavier Bragfield sat working at his desk, perpetually bathed in the dulling blue light of his mandatory devices. He was a sensor technician with the Ministry of Environment; it was his job to monitor the various sensor arrays that exist throughout the city. The majority of his time was spent remotely plugged into a vast network of control systems, but on rare occasions he would have to go on-site for some form of physical verification. This gave Xavier access to the various compartmentalized areas of the city at times, including on two occasions being escorted to the outer edge; to the imposing 40m high barrier that surrounded their lives just as it surrounded the long greenhouse structures that encircle each city and divorced the whole of their society from the rest of the planet; beyond this all one could see was a deserted and desolate wasteland. Travel between cities was restricted to only the highest levels of government authorization.
By Antony Peachey3 years ago in Fiction
