Sci Fi
Eric's Journey
I remember walking onto the Morningstar from the HermesLift and already feeling a sense of relief. I hadn’t been away from home in so long and while I was happy there for the most part, it was starting to feel like a prison. This Morningstar voyage got my blood boiling again! I was anticipating all kinds of new trouble that I could get into. Also, I didn’t have my mother over my shoulder always wanting to know what I was doing and where I had been. I did miss her though…
By Teacher Steven U Allen5 years ago in Fiction
Legacy of Ash
Home was no longer home. It was a base, a shelter, a hideout, a safe haven. Still, a part of Tobias Denhart considered it home, even if it was half-buried in black volcanic sand and collapsed on the beach. The pillows with tropical floral designs, though dirty, were still sitting on the wicker chairs in the living room. The kitchen cabinets still had Tobias’s “Boss of the Year” mugs from his business back on Earth before he moved to the colony. Cracked pictures of his brother and his children were lying flat on the dusty coffee table.
By Catherine Kruger5 years ago in Fiction
Homegrown
That day had been inevitable. I always had a feeling that it would come to me. We'd been brought up to find the whole thing noble; lessons and scriptures throughout our time at school had made it very clear how much of an honour it was to be one of the Bearers. My older sisters loved the idea. I think the tragic romanticism of it all was attractive to them at first; being able to tell people they held such a hard-hitting and burdenous responsibility seemed to make it all worthwhile, despite the drawbacks. I'd never felt the same way, not even as a child.
By Argumentative Penguin5 years ago in Fiction
Planet Cannon
Planet Cannon by Kimberly R. Young Illustration by Tori Cannon The date was March 13th , 2221. It was written across the harsh magenta sky, blinking every few seconds. The signal from The Towers must’ve been dampened by the crystal storm that had just rolled in and just as easily out, both violent and fleeting. Unexpected and then just- gone. Time was 19:42.
By Kimberly Young5 years ago in Fiction
Where the Dustwinds Moan
It was 9:37 a.m. when the bombs dropped on November 18th, 2097. It was a Monday. When the dust settled, the living, as they are wont to do, went on living. Camps and tribes formed around river basins. Canned foods became coal and wine. And violence and cunning were the national currency.
By Sean Cavanagh-Voss5 years ago in Fiction
Reminders of Love
They relished finding meaning in old things as the remains of ancient art lay scattered throughout their world. It was a ritual of sorts. A tradition. Whenever a new old object was uncovered, they would gather at night to tell stories about it. Around their camp fire, in the middle of their village, they sat relatively protected from the elements.
By Jims Maher5 years ago in Fiction
The View from the Dome
The energy dome shimmered. It was blurrier than usual. That meant rain. Rain. Emanuel liked how the word felt on his tongue. He hadn’t seen it. None of them had, apart from in pictures and the old vids. From what he’d read, many of their ancestors had disliked the rain.
By Allison Oesterle5 years ago in Fiction
Solar Flash
The planet died slowly, and we watched. For centuries, scientists begged society to act for the sake of humanity. They pleaded for drastic change as cities drowned under rising sea levels, famine ravaged the earth, and lush forests turned into barren wastelands. But people don’t care until hell is at their door. Until it’s too late. We’re proactive like that.
By Karla Abreu5 years ago in Fiction
Just a Little Fire
Anger and fear took turns pummeling her insides as she tried to walk quietly through the busy workspaces of the hab. Arm 1 of North American Hab Beaumonde, the only home she’d ever known. The huge, sprawling town was mostly underground, which regulated the temperature inside. She slammed a door closed as she came into one of the greenhouses, finally overcome by emotion. The opacity of the underground ceiling gave way to sky.
By Abbie Kruse5 years ago in Fiction
