Darcy A. S. Thornburg
Stories (15/0)
The Best Fantasy Series Out There
The best fantasy series out there isn’t fantasy at all; it just looks like it. The best fantasy series out there is Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonriders of Pern. Sounds like fantasy, right? I mean, there are dragons in the title; how much more fantastical can you get? But it’s not. What is it really? It’s science fiction masquerading as fantasy.
By Darcy A. S. Thornburg3 years ago in Journal
An Encounter at the Orchard
Miriam walked to school every day. No, it wasn’t often snowing. No, there weren’t uphill stretches both ways. No, she didn’t have to walk there in her bare feet. She simply walked to school because school was within a reasonable walking distance of her home. She loved walking to school—and walking home, but that wasn’t as nice because sometimes the sun had already set by the time she passed the orchard.
By Darcy A. S. Thornburg3 years ago in Fiction
Zach's Chance
The lights went out. As they came back on again, Zach Standsfield sighed. That was the third time this shift. Resigned to the fact that he would not be reading any more of the latest thriller published on Alpha Centaurii anytime soon, he pushed off the covers and padded through the dim, green glow of the emergency lights, making his floaty way to the corridor hatch.
By Darcy A. S. Thornburg3 years ago in Fiction
The Bull and the Bullshit
Half of this story is true. The other I made up. I’ll let you guess which is which. When I was in my teens, we lived in a house on a hill that sloped down sideways. At the back, a farmer’s land abutted ours. At the time, he had cows as well as fowl, and he would sometimes bring us eggs and fresh milk. Those were some good times.
By Darcy A. S. Thornburg3 years ago in Fiction
Vibrant Hope
Many among the crew of Colony Transport Daedalus were angry when Chief Hydroponics Officer Sylvos insisted on planting marigolds from seeds he’d brought with him on the journey in with the fruits and vegetables. “They’re a waste of crop space,” they said. “What good is a pollinator plant when you’re pollinating artificially anyway?” they asked.
By Darcy A. S. Thornburg3 years ago in Fiction
A Day at the Beach
The people sunning on the makeshift beach screamed in what seemed like unison. Out to sea, one of their number who had been surfing had been snapped up by a great white that had somehow gotten too close to shore. There was a great stampede of flip flops, beach towels, and buckets and spades as the beach goers ran away from the sea-bound menace.
By Darcy A. S. Thornburg3 years ago in Fiction
Solo
Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Jessa, Happy birthday to you. Elsie Doakes led the traditional song, her voice cracking as she stumbled over the third line, much more used to having to rush through three names instead of just the one. Keep it together, she thought to herself. Jessa doesn’t need you to bring things down today.
By Darcy A. S. Thornburg3 years ago in Fiction
Xenoexploration
The structure in front of the landing party was three times taller than their ground vehicle, if not more. It was made, the xenoarchitect among them noted, from the wood matter of trees not unlike the ones that grew nearby. It had once had two large doors that slid outward from the center of one of the shorter sides, but one had rotted away, its remains long since splintered, and the other barely hung from its rusting track, the bottom edges of the door in shards on the ground below it.
By Darcy A. S. Thornburg3 years ago in Fiction