Sci Fi
The Cartographer of Sorrows. AI-Generated.
Part One: The Atlas of Intangible Places Dr. Amara Okonkwo has spent the last twelve years mapping things that don't exist on any conventional geography. Her office at the University of Lagos occupies the top floor of the Natural Sciences building, where the heat from the corrugated roof makes afternoons feel like slow-motion fever dreams. On the walls, she has pinned dozens of maps—none of which depict countries, coastlines, or capital cities. Instead, they show emotional terrain: the location of childhood wounds, the precise coordinates of romantic devastation, the topographical lines marking the elevation of grief.
By Cordelia Vance6 months ago in Fiction
The Meridian Keeper. AI-Generated.
Part One: The Weight of Longitude The meridian doesn't appear on any map that tourists carry through the city, and that suits Mara just fine. She has been walking its invisible length for seventeen years—not the Greenwich line marked in brass at the Royal Observatory, but another one, older, more temperamental. The line that runs through her small corner of the Pacific Northwest where autumn refuses to release its grip and winter waits, perpetually patient, on the other side.
By Cordelia Vance6 months ago in Fiction
The Horizon Protocol. AI-Generated.
The Mathematics of Erosion Captain Yuki Tanaka had spent her entire life inside the Meridian, and the Meridian had spent its entire life traveling toward Proxima Centauri. Three hundred and twelve years of acceleration, coast, and the slow mathematics of stellar navigation. Three hundred and twelve years of watching the Earth recede into irrelevance, a memory preserved in historical databases and the genetic code of eight thousand souls who had never set foot on anything but these metal corridors.
By Alpha Cortex6 months ago in Fiction
Say Her Name
Sweetheart, you look a little upset. I can fully understand why. There are certain things you expect to work the way they are supposed to, and you’re not getting that. I think that I would be upset too if I were in your shoes. I kind of knew that I would have some explaining to do when you woke up.
By David E. Perry6 months ago in Fiction
Fluidity. Runner-Up in The Unhappy Ending Challenge. Top Story - April 2026.
The liquid alloy implant invades the base of the skull, touring through the cerebrospinal fluid, colonizing, claiming the medulla oblongata, the cerebellum, back toward the thalamus, and up into the cerebral cortex until it goes where it's told. But before all this occurs, the extracted dose comes from a time-constrained chain of melting glaciers and heated reunion. Because of its origin, it traces a peculiar pattern, scientifically calling to life a future your body alone could not do on its own. After invading the skull, the dose moves at a pathetically glacial pace compared with the buckshot desire to live despite. Once implanted, that is, the dose comes under the mediation of machine time, which gives you plenty of ambivalence to call your own as you contemplate, in a phrase you’re robbed of the chance to abhor, "what might have been."
By Nicky Frankly6 months ago in Fiction
The Persistence of the Night Shift
NIGHT SHIFT The solar sits where the hospital used to be. No one calls it anything else. It doesn’t need a name anymore. Broken concrete. Wet bricks. Cables pulled from walls like something that was never meant to be visible. A piece of chewing gum stuck to a stone near the entrance path—pink at first, now grey, flattened by months of weather and nothing else. It stays because there is no request to remove it.
By Lorena Alonso6 months ago in Fiction
