Clyde Himmelstein
Stories (3/0)
Transference
As Anderson stood outside the lobby of the tower at the intersection of Broadway and Leonard Street, he felt an unaccountable feeling of apprehension settle over him. He had read through all the relevant paperwork dozens of times over the past few months, in order to penetrate scientific jargon which concealed the details of the procedure he was about to undergo. By now he was reasonably confident that he understood it, which is why the feeling came as a surprise.
By Clyde Himmelstein3 years ago in Futurism
The Alchemist's Dog
It was on a midnight in November when I visited the alchemist again. We had been friends during college, but after graduation we had steadily drifted apart as we pursued our disparate paths in life; me into the mundane world of finance and trade, and him deeper into the eccentric studies for which he was constantly ridiculed by the scientific establishment of the time. The rain was pouring out of a black sky as I stood on the small sheltered porch of his townhouse, waiting for an answer to my knock. Eventually his shadowed face appeared behind a crack in the doorway, and small white hand, thin and spotless as a doll’s, beckoned me inside. He looked older than I remembered him. His abundant black hair was beginning to gray. But his eyes glowed with a nervous excitement brighter than I had ever seen in him before.
By Clyde Himmelstein3 years ago in Horror
The Cold Descent
The sun was creeping over the glittering ice-ridges of Europa’s surface when the eight trucks of the NASA Orpheus Mission convoy reached their dive point. Jupiter loomed ominously on the horizon, taking up a full third of the sky, its cream and orange ribbons boiling with the anger of some terrible magnetic storm. There, at the base of a rugged sulfur-stained ice cliff, was the pit. Ten meters wide, thirteen kilometers deep, bored by five years of orbital lasers and nuclear heat-probes, it was now finally complete, mouth grinning open to swallow its first human explorer.
By Clyde Himmelstein3 years ago in Futurism