Sydney Alice
Bio
An East Coast writer interested in speculative fiction and magical realism.
Stories (4/0)
How Odd It Was
How odd it was, Emmaline thought, that she should exist as the answer to humanity's greatest question even as she stood in front of its greatest attempt at answering it. Where the limits of humanity had fallen short, its creation would learn, discover, and improve, so it could see what its creators could not reach themselves. The work of civilizations sat unmoving in a prison-supplied chair in a stark, empty cell.
By Sydney Aliceabout a year ago in Fiction
Someone Coming, Doing Worse
The bartender had waited long enough. He was neither accustomed to waiting nor accustomed to being made to wait. All night and most of the day, he served ore dogs their alcohol; a drunk mercenary with a story to tell rarely waited long to yield one. He was a nosy and dissatisfied man, and he liked to hear the exploits of people tougher and rougher than he. This woman, though, with her hair plaited tight against her scalp and her exposed skin a tangle of scars, was silent. She was three drinks deep and hadn’t spoken since requesting her first one. Her only solicitation was to fish more coin out of her pocket to slam on the counter. Most other ore dogs would have been drunkenly regaling the bartender with war stories and tales of lewd romps by now, but the one in front of him only sipped her clear alcohol in a slow and deliberate manner.
By Sydney Aliceabout a year ago in Fiction
All That Was Lost
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. It was an ugly place, barren and monochromatic, but he insisted it had once been beautiful. She disbelieved him. How could a place that looked so dusty and lifeless have ever sustained anything, much less done it with beauty? The idea was too strange to her, no matter how many times he invited her to the top of the tower to gaze out the compound’s sole window.
By Sydney Aliceabout a year ago in Fiction
