Cody Steinberg
Stories (2/0)
Downpour
I was shot six times -- three times in the chest, once in my right arm, and twice in my right leg. I couldn't tell you who killed me or why, I just know that this barn, slumped in the same position day after day is where I spend my eternity. I don't know if I sleep at all. Not once did I try to keep track of the time. I couldn't tell you the year, let alone the day or hour it is. I don't know what the outside world is like anymore. I only know this rusted red remnant from when I was alive.
By Cody Steinberg3 years ago in Fiction
Marianne
Aida, a twenty-something year old woman with rustic brown hair that drags to her hips, glides through a barren cityscape, almost seamlessly. She's taken this path hundreds upon hundreds of times over the last few months, sometimes making three trips in a day. She's holding onto the hand of a young man, no older than fourteen. His black hair covers his eyes, dusted with the ash and debris of the fallen world.
By Cody Steinberg3 years ago in Futurism