Improbable Paradise
View DetailsThe Winners!
The Rising Sun. Runner-Up in the Improbable Paradise Challenge.
Beneath, soft white sand. Behind, birds and monkeys chattered, already awake in the pale gray of false dawn. In front, waves broke upon the coral reefs. To the left, a bottle of Kill Devil Hills rum rested against his thigh, its cork long lost and its contents mostly absent. To the right, a cigarette burned lazily between his fingers.
By Stephen A. Roddewig4 years ago in Fiction
Two Solitudes. Runner-Up in the Improbable Paradise Challenge.
Vacation? Vacation from what? I can't help but ask myself this as I trudge the light-blue sands of Icarus Island. It's paradise, to be sure. Made even more so by the tidal disruption event that's been occurring for the last hundred years breathtakingly close to this planet: Beta Carinae of the Carina constellation planets.
By Braeden Black4 years ago in Fiction
Island of the Mori. Runner-Up in the Improbable Paradise Challenge.
Dr. McCormick made his case most vehemently before the captain and the first and second mate. The island I proposed to visit was nothing more than a barren rock in the sea which did not appear on any of our charts and had no apparent strategic value from a military or economic perspective. It was virtually devoid of plant life and any fauna were bound to be minimal and most primitive. For all we knew there was no safe place to make landfall.
By Michael Dilts4 years ago in Fiction
Dancing Automata. Runner-Up in the Improbable Paradise Challenge.
Shortly after his invitations went out, Benji, their would-be host, was indicted back home in Britain. Extradition requests encircled the equator. A hotline offered cash for tips on his whereabouts. Still, the striking gold foil invites arrived, each by drone, providing a selected ensemble with the precise intelligence sought by Interpol. Each kept mum as instructed while booking travel and preparing their luggage for the exclusive event.
By Philip Canterbury4 years ago in Fiction
Paradise: To Be or Not To Be. Runner-Up in the Improbable Paradise Challenge.
Jacob looked down at his chest. His skin was firm, his muscles sinewy. There was only the faintest shadow of a mark where the plastic drain had once been. It wasn't even a scar, only a mere discolouration. He stroked his fingers over the spot, then over his arms reassuring himself that he was here, that there could be no mistake; he was, without a doubt, alive.
By Caroline Jane4 years ago in Fiction
