Sci Fi
Paper north
At 7:11 on a Tuesday my phone died in my hand, halfway through telling me the weather. The glass froze on a spinning circle, then went black the way a candle goes when someone pinches the wick from behind. Side button. Nothing. Long press. Still nothing. The rectangle cooled against my thumb like it had decided I was no longer its problem.
By Gautam Atmakuri24 minutes ago in Fiction
Translation Layer
The first time the earpiece failed, we were fighting about a wet towel. An actual towel. Left on the bed in a damp heap, like a small accusation with a corner folded over. My wife said something in Telugu that should have arrived in my right ear as clean English. Instead I got a soft chime, and a line of grey text floated across my glasses.
By Gautam Atmakuria day ago in Fiction
The Abelisaurid Tooth
"I ate an abelisaurid tooth." Dr. Adrian Mercer looked up from his notes. He was a physician-scientist, an MD/PhD specializing in comparative neurobiology and visual neuroscience. Much of his research involved reconstructing sensory capabilities from anatomical evidence, including those of extinct animals.
By Jesse L Shelley5 days ago in Fiction
Aurelius Ascends (part 4)
The digital oscillations continued without any clear sign of letting up; instead, the sounds began resonating deeper inside the triple-hulled spacecraft like an eerie prehistoric subterranean drumbeat. The sound no longer came from the harsh coldness of space. It seemed to emanate from far below the Martian substrate itself, a signal buried so deep beneath the planet's surface that it remained safely hidden from the impenetrably wide dust storms, beneath the fractured plains, and beneath the violent meteorological chaos that had made the planet feasibly uninhabitable for centuries.
By Jonathan Townend9 days ago in Fiction
The Luminarch and the Sovereign
"Yesterday left me with a moment I couldn’t shake, so I wrote it down the only way I know how — straight from my heart and soul. This piece is a simple reflection on what I saw, what I felt, and what stayed with me afterward. It’s not about visuals or effects; it’s just the story itself and the truth that rose up while I was writing it. THIS STORY IS FROM MY BRAIN. MYTHICAL, DREAMY, AND WRITTEN IN METAPHORS AND CHARACTERS OF LIGHT."
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 18 days ago in Fiction
The Last Crystal Skull: A Dream I Can't Shake
The ARMY had called me back into duty after they realized my age. In my dream I was a year older. I was 48, almost 49, and I was in good shape. I'd been running, working out in the gym and at home, doing weight training, calisthenics, and lots of cardio. I was in really good shape.
By Allen Childers18 days ago in Fiction
A Grey Area. AI-Generated.
When a Grey walked into the 41st Street Starbucks, all the Reptiloids drinking their mid-day macchiatos turned yellow with surprise. No Greys had been seen in a Starbucks since the Cinnamon Wars. The Grey, a short elderly fellow in a worn brown overcoat, approached the counter and ordered a grande cappuccino. The barista was human, although determining that required a second look. His face was almost entirely covered in tattoos, and enough metal protruded from his ears, nose, and lower lip to defeat any facial recognition algorithm. His name tag read ASH PHOENIX — PROUD/THEY. Behind him hung a municipal poster: GOTHAM COFFEE FOR ALL — $1.50 PER CUP. ALL SENTIENT SPECIES WELCOME. Ash considered the Grey for a moment.
By Vadim Kagan20 days ago in Fiction
Sibyl: A Science Fiction Short Story
The ghost of my future smells of ash. “I thought you were going to stop smoking,” I say. “It’s been a tough year.” She rummages inside her bag and produces a packet of Marlboro Lights. “Life doesn’t always go according to plan, does it, Sibyl?” She lights a cigarette and blows the smoke towards me, ghost smoke, a multiplication of the insubstantial.
By Edward Smith21 days ago in Fiction
May God Have Mercy On Your Soul
His breath was a steady rhythm of in and out as he stared intently at the high-definition screen sitting on the desk in front of him. His right finger tightened on the cold, metallic trigger slowly, he could feel a low hum in the air. She was just sitting there on her couch reading a book. Digital scopes on screen showed him that the weapon was aimed directly at her heart. His finger paused, readings said the weapon wasn't at 100% capacity yet. Heat waves began to show clearly in the air around her. It was even visible on his screen, but she only turned a page in her book and continued reading.
By Lolly Vieira22 days ago in Fiction
