Excerpt
Meditations After The End Of The World
Together the crone and I walked in country by sea an afternoon late that summer. Having left through a pass in the southern hills we started out not long after dawn. The sun in our eyes and harsh bearing upon us. Along past the winding hills turned northeast down a disserviced road; an hour later cleared a wooded area, diverged onto a rubble backroad and started coming back closer to the water.
By James B. William R. Lawrence3 years ago in Fiction
Waiting for the Sun to Rise
Two arches. A point. Two arches. A point. Over and over again. He’d done this many times. He knew this shape well. Mindlessly, his finger traced the heart in the filthy dust that seemed to coat everything down here. It was easy to ignore the dull chatter of the others despite how gratingly their voices bounced off the stone walls. He’d been around long enough to get used to it; for it to be just one of the many things pushed to the background.
By Mai Ly Nguyen3 years ago in Fiction
Death Week
Wind blows my hair back and away from my face. My gaze darts from one end of the street to the other as I hide in between two shops. The air is cold but sweat still rolls down my forehead anticipating a group of Reapers to show up any moment. Assholes who simply take joy in killing.
By S. M. Risdon3 years ago in Fiction
Vendra
Vendra by Brett Tyndall Pain jolted throughout my body, hitting every nerve end. I felt a dampness around me, but it was too dark for me to tell if it was rain or blood. I was buried in wet rubble and debris from the explosion. I needed to get out of this pile. I felt around my uniform, which was dying from a lack of solar energy. I noticed one of the vials around my waist was empty. I assumed the suit shot me with HE/LP, or Healing Emergency/Life Preserver. The serum was only good for broken bones and blood loss, so I guess none of my organs failed. The suit would tell me if it wasn’t running out of energy. I didn’t bring a backup vial. I didn’t think I would need it.
By Brett Tyndall3 years ago in Fiction
Esther's Hope
When the world of technology fell, so did the world of men. When money was lost forever in scrambled bank files, and power loss plunged the modern world into darkness, the abhorrent riots began. Individuals plundered shops and valuables with no consequence, and eliminated those who dared to oppose them; while families fled in the hopes they could find somewhere free of the violence and panic.
By Karina Brown3 years ago in Fiction
To Hear the Heart
Jacob let the children touch his ears, their eyes wide round orbs of amazement. The young girl squealed softly, then moved her hands in a frenzy of motion to communicate. Soft and fuzzy. Jacob smiled in spite of himself and replied, Yes. The young boy, clearly the older brother in the way he contained his excitement as if such an emotion was beneath him, turned to his parents and signed, Ears. Have you ever seen them before? The parents stood back, apprehensive and uncertain like animals sensing a trap. No, came their mother’s curt reply as she beckoned for her children to return. Their father’s head turned on a swivel, no doubt looking for the Juments, the not-so-secret police of The Party who hunted the hearing with a brutal ruthlessness.
By Lucas Wolfe3 years ago in Fiction
FIREPROOF
The blazing sun was slowly easing its oppressive grip on the air, but Casey decided it wasn't yet safe enough to leave her burrow to begin her nightly gardening. She pulled the insulated cover back over the burrow's opening and slid back out of the encroaching clutches of heat radiating from the opening into the much cooler depths of her burrow.
By Christian Kuhlman3 years ago in Fiction
Doomsday Diary
06/28/32 Notes she Wrote…. The pressure in my sinuses is so intense, I feel there is a very real possibility that my head may blow off, just as the top of a champagne bottle does when it is not quite chilled enough. My mind wonders, to my best friend’s wedding, which was only a few years ago, but feels like a lifetime has passed. It was a beautiful wedding, with endless, crisp champagne. It is unlikely we will ever see each other again or celebrate milestones with our chilled glasses and strawberry garnishes, I miss her every day.
By Dru Bedard3 years ago in Fiction