Grant Richard
Stories (7/0)
Saviour
INT. COMMAND CENTRE - NIGHT A solitary figure in stark florescent light, in blue coveralls, sits at a console, hands knit together over his stomach. This is MURDOCH. We know because that's what the name tag on his chest says. He stares vacantly, straight ahead at a robotic countdown on a screen.
By Grant Richard10 months ago in Futurism
Showdown at the Major Phazer Lazer Tag Emporium
INT. MAJOR PHAZER LAZER TAG LOUNGE - NOT DAY NOT NIGHT It is not day. It is not night. It is the forever florescent neon limbo of the lazer tag emporium. Blacklight and glow in the dark with no windows. Arcade game noise from every direction. Through the vents even. It is the casino of adolescence. If Walt Disney made Blade Runner. Children running and kicking and swinging at each other, snorting icing off mini cupcakes and eating cheese doodles off the floor, with miles of ribbon tickets in their pandemic fists. Zombie employees in neon vests, wading through them, forearms and elbows hover at their torsos above the heads of these unbathed masses, emptying change from machines and scraping gum off the geometric shapes of a carpet laid in 1987.
By Grant Richard10 months ago in Humor
The Lady in the Lake
In the Summer of 1923, a woman, whose identity has since been lost, checked in to the Lakeview Hotel, opposite City Park. That same day, she rented a boat and paddled out to the middle of the lake where she disappeared. Kelowna Ghost Tours tells the story of what some say happened to this mystery woman 100 years ago, the old Kelowna Ghost Story of The Lady in the Lake.
By Grant Richard10 months ago in Fiction
Sunnyside
Sunnyside. Fall of 1976. Afternoon. Mabel, a pleasant, earnest woman, 60s, stands on a roadside opposite an old ramshackle cabin, its mossy roof starting to cave in. She wears an old, quilted coat and nylon pants, a yellow kerchief holding down her hair. In the grip of one hand, a large, flat, wooden case. In the other, a collapsed tripod.
By Grant Richard2 years ago in Fiction