Barb Dukeman
Bio
Ready for a new direction after 32 years of teaching high school English. I wrote my first poem about green socks in 1977; I hope I've improved since then.
Stories (92/0)
Faces of the Future
The screens flashed at midnight as they sat in the dimmed room. “Happy New Year!” The girls of Iota Delta Iota Omicron Tau raised their glasses of sparkling cider as they celebrated the arrival of 2070. Banti77, 4Donna4, and Kar3n stayed in a room at their sacred sorority house on the campus of The University of Mid Southwest Coastal Florida. As part of this sisterhood, they shared holidays and many conversations about the past and the future.
By Barb Dukeman2 years ago in Fiction
For Safety
Smoke curling through the pale orange sky over the distant hill indicated to Helena that morning was on the horizon. The fires provided warmth for the remnants of that small village whose people hunted for rats or squirrels, cooking them over crude stone pits and metal grates. In the distance, Helena had become a scavenger as well, digging through the heaps of destruction that occurred when one world state clashed with the other years ago. The war yielded no winners, only broken people, pawns struggling to survive.
By Barb Dukeman2 years ago in Futurism
