Sci Fi
Satin and Cybernetics
Satin gloves shimmered as she slid them up her arms; the final touch to her regency ensemble. After all, that was the era citizens of Port 9 lived in. Clara had been to other ports in the world, exterminating the threat that had been calling themselves the Truth Speakers. They had been disrupting the peace that had been created by the ports by claiming to know what lies outside the walls of the ports. As she rode in the carriage, she slid her glove off of her right arm and tapped on the inside of wrist, opening a small compartment that was installed in the robotic hand. She quietly spoke, “on my way to Penworth’s ball . I will verify the information I received and report back.”
By Makhenna Cullen5 years ago in Fiction
They Lied about Grandmother's Home
They lied about Grandmother’s home. In the distance the siren wails. Time for a break. I relax the controls and allow the claws of the Blaster to sink back to the ground as I run through the check in my mind. Helmet. Oxygen. Correction boots.
By Sarah Stankus5 years ago in Fiction
Oral History
My mother Susan told me that there was a time, less than a century ago, when food was purchased in stores with pieces of paper or tiny plastic cards. My mother Karen says Susan is full of it and that never really happened. Then Susan says Karen would remember her history lesson of what it was like before if she didn’t spend all her harvest on whiskey. That’s usually my cue to go out to the greenhouse and work on my plot. The vegetables never get drunk and argue.
By LUCINDA M GUNNIN5 years ago in Fiction
Light.
Kaiya willed her eyes to blink, but it were as though her mind had fully separated from her body. She couldn't believe her eyes. How could there be so much beauty among so much chaos, so much destruction? The beams of light seemed to shatter and reassemble, not in the same way as they were, but in a stunning calamity, both delicate and volatile. The rays pierced through the haze, brilliant vermilion and amber, muted by ash and soot and smoke. The brightness tore through the opaque veil of smoldering devastation, clawing away, desperate to penetrate. The light danced and darted with no semblance of a rhythm, as Kaiya’s eyes tried, to no avail, to catch the elusive glisten. Every time she seemed to match the tempo of the rays, the beat changed, the chords augmented and she was lost again.
By Diana Auer5 years ago in Fiction
Survivor Diaries
A small figure clung to the shadows, pausing to avoid the Collectors walking past. The figure was dressed in dark greys and black, the clothes tight fitting to her petite frame. On her back she carried a large backpack in the same color scheme, around her waist she wore a belt with a knife, flashlight, and a secondary belt with pockets filled with odds and ends. She relaxed into the shadows, her dark red hair draped around her cherub face half hidden by a mask. Her light blue eyes glinting in the disappearing light, she turned her face to the sky. Oh how she wished to see the stars again, but the pollution from the Unwanted Furnaces filled the sky like a thick miasma blocking all possible hope of seeing the brilliant balls of gas. She tensed as more footsteps came close to her hidden form in the shadows. She had to be careful letting her guard down with so many Collectors nearby, she couldn't risk getting caught. Everyone relied on her getting the much needed supplies, more so Sarah's life counted on her mission going well.
By Alyssa LeCuyer5 years ago in Fiction
Starlight
Ten years. Ten years have passed since the “War to End All Wars” began and two years since the ceasefire was called. Unlike most wars, the first to launch is unknown but the cost is seared into the memories of those who remain. Millions upon millions of lives lost, entire populations erased, all in the name of greed and pride. And although the war has come to a halt globally, civil unrest is nearing its peak.
By Eli Rodriguez5 years ago in Fiction
The Robot Hears a Siren
Scanning… This area was once a city. Now there is only hardened dirt and trash. Metal plate found, 50 yards ahead through the rubble and decay. T-71 also detected a few others in the vicinity that were scavenging parts and repairing broken down robots. It is getting harder to recover those who did not make it out of the acid rain. Often there is nothing left to do but recycle their parts. There is also starting to be less and less salvageable materials in the left-over human trash.
By Moonlit Writes5 years ago in Fiction
Halves of A Whole
The maroon sky churned and rolled like a thick bowl of borscht fresh from the pot. I looked down to see Liza entranced by the colour tones and noticed how beautifully it reflected in her pale blue eyes. She looked so much like her father. It was at times painful to see the likeness of that beautiful blue in the sea of red.
By Kegan Lorne-Walter5 years ago in Fiction
Fireworks
Bugg was almost done with his last drawing. His given name was John but his mom always called him her “Bugg”. He liked that better than John anyway. He had drawn a blue circle for the face. A red line for the mouth. He drew two large squares for teeth. He had used his old crayons. He had to use them because all the markers had dried up. They would only make the faintest mark on the page. No good for drawing. His little tongue was slightly sticking out of his mouth as he drew a small rounded U for the nose. For his Dad’s glasses it was two black circles with black lines connecting the larger blue circle. Then one small black hump in the middle of the two black circles. He put two black dots in the middle of each black circle. He tilted his head slightly and looked at the photo. He put down the black crayon and picked up the blue again. He drew over the small u shape for the nose again. He set that crayon down and looked at the ones that were still outside the box. He looked them over carefully. Then he looked back into the box. He selected the green crayon. The tip of the crayon was worn down to a nub just past the wrapper. He clenched his hand around it making a fist. He then put it against the paper and ran the crayon up and down vigorously making spiky green hair. He put the crayon down and looked at the drawing. He nodded once and turned the drawing over. He reached to his right and found a roll of scotch tape hidden under more drawing paper. He pulled a small strip and tore it off. He then folded it onto itself and placed it on the middle of the paper. He did it two more times, putting the folded pieces of tape beside each other. He stood up and turned the paper back around. He looked over it and again nodded once.
By James Stratton5 years ago in Fiction
