Sci Fi
Before the Void
“I don’t believe in equal freedoms. The strong eat the weak. Only the best must be selected,” the patient states as he gets injected in his left-side chest and up his right sinus. He lays naked on the table with his limbs outstretched. The body emits an odour that implies the patient has an inactive lifestyle, and only bathes an estimated every four days.
By T. S. Babiak5 years ago in Fiction
A Glitch in Society
I was relatively certain it was the morning for two reasons. First, there was the aches of my joints from sleeping in one position all night. Followed by the distinct bitter taste that mornings typically left in my mouth. It had to be morning, but my CORE visual display said otherwise. I blinked a few times in rapid succession, but the world that stretched out before me was nothing more than a black void. Immediately, I started to panic. The worst case scenario: being suffocated by darkness forever, became a clearer and clearer possibility as the seconds dragged on. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. “It was simply a minor bug or glitch in the system.” I reassured myself. As with all programs CORE was not immune to technical difficulties. I knew that first hand as one of their lead systems programmers. Suddenly, a light out of the dark, a pop up wrapped around my display that read: SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE. SERVERS WILL BE ONLINE SHORTLY. I breathed a sigh of relief, and fell back into the comforting embrace of my covers. I was grateful to get at least another half hour of sleep in before the day finished loading.
By Audrey Robey5 years ago in Fiction
Where Do the Deleted Go
Alan was mad! His car had gone too far! His head still hurt where he banged it on the car roof. He stormed into his apartment. He dropped his briefcase by the door as it closed and locked itself. He tossed his suit coat and tie at the living room sofa and quickly walked into the link room. He sat down on his computer link couch and laid back. The connection from reality to cyberspace was almost instantaneous. To Alan, the scene changed, and he was sitting behind his desk. In this virtual reality was his personnel computer console room. His computer-generated image or avatar spoke into the microphone attached to the headset he was wearing in the simulation.
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Fiction
UKIYO
“Life is good with less teeth,” Koro thought, as the taste of freeze-dried cherries settled into his naked body. In front of him, the stars shone in the cold lacquer sky. Lapping peacefully, the amniotic fluid sent pleasurable waves over his pale, hairless skin. His teeth, black like burnt bodies, worked lazily, mixing his saliva with the fruit, as if by squeezing out the moisture from his own body, he was imagining juice.
By Sebastian Yong-Ah Chang5 years ago in Fiction
Survival
What little exposed skin I have chafes from the stinging winds, moving clouds of dust through the silhouettes of wreckage in the distance. I've been searching for weeks, trying to find supplies. I know I'm not alone. I can see the orange lit sky between the gusts. I can almost smell the pollution of death and chemicals. Thankfully, for the most part, my apparatus protects me from the harsh air. I hold onto the handles of my bike, praying it holds on til I find some fuel. People would call me crazy years ago, bragging about their electric models. With so many powerlines down, I guess I'm the one laughing now. The sky clears for a moment, giving way to what remains of what I assume was a small town. I've not been here before, but days and scenes escape me. It's been a lifetime ago, and I try like hell to remember little markers, to keep my mind in check. For no matter how hard I try, this weather pulls you in all directions, sometimes back to where you've already been.
By Nick Walker5 years ago in Fiction
Shedding
The vaporous clouds of Nereynis suggested some celestial smithy where work was done for the day. It was as if the sun had downed his hammer, and the agitations he beat out relentlessly through the labouring hours were ceased. A soaring ephemeral skyscape which once undulated and fumed suddenly held at an all but total still, save for the gradual cooling by which its last tints of brilliant gold assumed those more substantial bronze and copper hues which had already taken possession of the depths. Even in a heavenly forge however, light and heat were visitors of markedly different conduct, one favouring the fast flit while the other made no hurry to depart. Long after colour had forsaken the firmament, Nereynis nights stayed sultry.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
In light we Trust
The thing I miss most is the sun. I remember always hiding from it now. I would give anything just to bask in it's glory for a moment. The light here is much too white. Not warm and yellow, just sterile. I've been staring at how it reflects off a desk a few seats down from mine. In the corner of my eye, I caught a gleam of light. While my mind was encapsulated by it, I was reminded of the great fish that live miles below in the oceans and how they lure prey with the light they create.
By Brittney Harris5 years ago in Fiction
