Carl Creighton
Bio
@carlcreighton
Stories (3/0)
The Swine of Legion
The pigs were playing, dancing in the rays of new daylight coming through the wood of the old barn they'd always called home. Simeon would be home soon and he was a task master. They'd better get their kicks in before then. Besides, they were tired, from a night spent sucking blood.
By Carl Creighton3 years ago in Earth
(White?) Nationalism at the Walmart on the 4th of July
I don't know exactly when we started doing this, but at some point in time my brother and I (both cis white males) began referring to Walmart as "the temple." We've never really discussed why we do this. Like a neglected gardening aisle in the back of a Walmart, the moniker might lose its charm if we pay too much attention. But who or what would be the Almighty in this scenario? Sam Walton? Stockholders? Money itself? The ancient Greeks and Romans had many gods.
By Carl Creighton3 years ago in The Swamp
Grandma Jenna's Heart-Shaped Locket
Sunday, August 6, 3256 Dear Elephanie, Let me start with that question you asked. There wasn't enough of "the usual stuff" for us to keep living in bodies. Mom put it to me this way some time ago when I was younger, when my data was less developed. Before that, I kind of figured I was different from the Spacers I saw in the Feed and met at Convention. We're still a little like you. We go outside (never further than the mailbox for me), stay inside sometimes. Watch the Feed, eat and all the rest of it. Go to the bathroom. Go to Convention. Fall in love when we get older, sometimes. Mom never did but I'd like to, with another Wave of course. Make friends (mostly at Convention), buy groceries, pet the cat, feed the cat, react to the cat dying. Mittens died again this morning, I'm still mad about it. But I always felt a little different from the Spacers on the Feed and at Convention, even when I was really, really young data. Mom’s older than me, over a thousand. That’s pretty old, huh?
By Carl Creighton3 years ago in Fiction