Sci Fi
Into the (H)aether
The morning bloomed through the heather. A soft morning, with the sky cast like a child’s breath on a fogged up, window of a ’93 chevy, flying down the coastline to escape the summer’s heat. My name was also Heather. It was an error in the Simulation, that I had been named after the scene in the Sim, in another life I would have probably found the oversight funny but the humour had been wrung out of me, quite some time ago. Now I just blankly held the clothes up to the line and followed the cracks in the Sim with my finger, wondering when I would be let out, when my purpose would come.
By J.R. Nelson 5 years ago in Fiction
Will The Last Person To Leave Please Turn Out The Lights?
We found the Endling by accident. We didn't have the word 'endling' at the time - it was a concept that was obvious when it was explained, but as an idea it hadn't ever been explored by our species. A species was either extinct, or it wasn't.
By Drew Dunlop5 years ago in Fiction
The Advancements
We all have them. Tattoos on our thumbs. No one has ever figured out the codes; dashes and dots. But we suspect its on our thumbs not only for identification, but it details what we are ‘allowed’ to do, according to the new legislature. Plus, makes it nearly impossible to replicate. They are much smarter than us, that’s for sure.
By Roberta DeAndrade5 years ago in Fiction
Holographic Memories of the Heart
Cinta’s memory flexes backwards, landing at 8 years. She is perusing adult insights on anything televised through her mother’s news story translations in trending child-level terminology. “But Mama, what will happen if they don’t just kill those bad men?” she asks of a report of violent criminals being imprisoned, like in ancient times.
By Shayley Blair5 years ago in Fiction
The sickness and the cure.
The heat was stifling, even in the abandoned concrete sarcophagus that was once a thriving supermarket. Sophie hadn’t been here for long, but long enough to realise that something didn’t feel quite right about the place. It felt like the walls had a story, and it wasn’t a pleasant one. The afternoon sun beams filtered through the dusty air, casting shadows onto the smooth marble-look tiles, as Sophie took another step into one of the aisles. The dust crunched under her size 5 runners and for a moment she glimpsed movement out of the corner of her eye. The Supermarket aisle was mostly empty shelving, some intact on the racking, and some strewn across the dirty floor. Broken potato-chip packets, miscellaneous liquid stains and dispersed flour framed boot prints fleeing the scene, now ghost-like in the absence of a body. She slowly crept deeper into the isle in the hope of finding some sort of food. Supplies were scarce in this world since the cataclysm, and there was always someone, or something searching for the same things she was.
By Matthew Vale5 years ago in Fiction
The Unlatching
The crescent moon was reminiscent of a Persian scythe in shape, its illuminating light scathed the night's stars and the piercing moonlight could lead one to believe an owl had flown overhead. Lilith, the preponderant succubus's pale reflection riding the waves protruded by ripples of pitch black, and yet, intruded with near-infinite sands of clay underneath. Dread be the wars man bred and locked into prior to yesterday's baring age has finally chased the sun's sanity to the other side of this quaint realm giving the sky a chance to remember the beauty of what was, the oceans, prior to the late Earth and its belonging consequences. Should the seas rise as much as temper's of Zeus a well placed dam should be built to keep safe the town from the repercussions of evening's descent. For all that is divine will remain as long as divinity is not disrupted, shall this oath be gone against, may the mountains perish and their corresponding spirits return to the seas like the grains of sand, the motion's erosion.
By Klay Alan Duncan5 years ago in Fiction
