Nick Sifuentes
Stories (3/0)
Good Fortune
I saw the little black notebook while walking back from the bodega down the street. I should’ve asked for a bag; as it was, I was already juggling a half-gallon of milk, laundry detergent, and a bag of kitty litter. At least I’d been able to jam the lotto scratchers in my back pocket with my change. The notebook was sitting on top of some garbage cans, but I could tell the leather was oddly pristine. Even so, not having a free hand, I kept walking: around the corner, up the block, and into my apartment building.
By Nick Sifuentes3 years ago in Families
Palimpsest
The hatch slid aside with a metallic whir. Dawn, burning bright in a sky still filled with pollutants that scattered the light into unnatural hues. A thousand feet below me, the remnants of the skyscrapers stabbed up like broken blades. I took a breath, testing the suit; the tang of ozone-purified air reassured me as I leapt, rappelling down the guideline to the surface. A hot wind, still noxious even after all this time, blasted at my tether; I oscillated nauseatingly for a moment before it anchored to the ground below. In the long light of morning, the towers threw jagged rows of toothed shadows as I descended into the mouth of the earth.
By Nick Sifuentes3 years ago in Futurism