Sci Fi
NOAH
There are only five families left on the planet, supposedly. At least, five made it to the summits before the radios were washed away along with everything else. And they aren't technically families. Most of them are ragtag groups of random survivors, but they may as well be families now. We are the survivors of the greatest disaster in human history. It was referred to as NOAH when it started because at first, it seemed like a flood. Water began washing away every city and every great civilization that had ever been built by man.
By Brianna Maria Lemarier5 years ago in Fiction
Downsizing
“Attention, Valued Synergy Partners. Due to budget concerns, the Corporation will be Downsizing tomorrow.” The android voice was cold in Belle’s ear-chip as she sat at her grey polycarbonate desk. “Please be aware that personal productivity should not be affected by this announcement. The Organizer will expect a full report if personal productivity falls below ninety-seven percent.”
By Maureen McCracken 5 years ago in Fiction
Bug Chaser
“Come on. come on. Janus” My classics professor, Dr. Fuggati, still has his tie on, but his pants are at his feet. His legs are slick and glistening, splayed open on the desk, like a sow hanging on a hook. He’s got a salt and pepper mustache, and olive skin that clutches his hips like cling wrap when he hugs his knees. He grips the desk till his knuckles gasp blue, and I am having trouble staying focused. He shakes impatiently
By Jackson Neal5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Colony
The day the government bailed out the auto industry, I was just a child napping in the backseat of my mother’s beat up sedan. With the fresh air passing through the open roof and the sun shining down on my eyelids, I was at peace. I remember hearing the passing hum of a bumble bee who nestled upon my hair and rested his wings for his midday flight. Sometimes I still dream about that moment, and I like to think back on it as a premonition. But when I do not dream, I exist in the darkness and wake up covered in the ashes and sand fluttering around after another passing sunset.
By Nelson Johnson5 years ago in Fiction
The Sponge
Simone breathed deeply trying to see through the thick air. Two years have passed since she saw a blue sky. The orangish hue that coated the Earth was affecting life as she knew it. The Sponge, as it is now called, was killing most of life that was around before the skies clouded over. Simone was struggling to remember what the world was like in those days, not too long ago.
By SheRockScience5 years ago in Fiction
Miss Pink's Happy Birthday
A young woman in a baby pink blouse sat cross legged in the middle of the road, yawning as tanks rolled towards her from over the horizon. She thought of a prank: signal them the wrong password on purpose, and let them fire. The last time they’d shot at her, the drivers had gotten all spooked when the tank shells shattered against her.
By Candy Janusen5 years ago in Fiction
SANCTION
“…there will be casualties…up to each of you to save the remaining human race… SANCTION will grant you immunity...continue initiating demands of economic order…self-suppression to preserve the last of the revolutionary gifts as humanity…far-reaching dimensions of our failures have manifested…SANCTION is your final choice…reinvention lies within your cooperation and your active participation is required for inclusion into the New World…Seek the LIFE STAR…”
By Elaina Finney5 years ago in Fiction
Tunnels
I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my dirt-crusted hand leaving a streak of mud on my forehead. I sighed with satisfaction as I took a step back to survey my work. Never thought I would be spending my life tending to a garden, but that was the necessity of my life now. I reached across the planter box to even the soil around one of the sprouts that would one day be carrots.
By William Dean5 years ago in Fiction
