Sci Fi

The Silent Wood
Silas was not a woodsman, nor a hermit. He was a Fletcher, a title he’d given himself. Where others saw a wild forest, he saw a room in desperate need of tidying. His domain was the stretch of woods behind his cottage, and his purpose was to bring order to the chaos.
By Habibullah12 months ago in Fiction
Good Vibes
“You’re a what?” “A panpsychist.” “Whoa. Trippy. You psychoanalyze cookware or something?” “In a way.” “Really? Double trippy.”
By majoki12 months ago in Fiction
far off sirens
It’s peaceful now. I can concentrate better. Even reflect a little. It hasn’t been like that in a long time. Living in a city that’s eating itself is a noisy place. Even on the calmest days at the lab, there was always the sound of far off sirens. Plaintive calls, as if from gargantuan beasts being crushed under the burden of their own wounding weight. The mournful backdrop of our ever so slow apocalypse.
By majoki12 months ago in Fiction
Cargo
Cantor waited until Hazzez finished checking the airlock before asking about the Frumies. Hazzez flashed a crooked grin revealing the eclectic range of micro-implants in his teeth. “Why do you want to know about the Frumies?”
By majoki12 months ago in Fiction
Automagically
“Can we get one?” Merl’s young son squeaked, tugging at his robe. “We don’t need one. You have me.” “But. But. But.” Merl sighed, picked up his son and put him on his shoulders. “Show me.”
By majoki12 months ago in Fiction
The Weight of the Orchard
Elara didn’t believe in magic. She believed in deeds, in ledgers, and in the stubborn, overgrown apple orchard she had just inherited from a reclusive great-uncle. The house was a time capsule, the barn a leaning monument to neglect. But it was the land that called to her, a fresh start after her life in the city had turned to dust.
By Habibullah12 months ago in Fiction
The Man Who Sold Tomorrow. AI-Generated.
Gregor Vale had always believed time was not a river, but a marketplace. In the back corner of an old European alley, behind fogged glass and a tarnished brass sign, stood his tiny workshop — Vale & Sons: Custom Clocks Since 1882.
By shakir hamid12 months ago in Fiction
Dark Meat
“You have done well managing my X account the past month,” Elon told the lookalike. “Thank you.” “With posts like these, the far right will be against nonwhite and immigrants in no time.”
By Stephanie Hoogstad12 months ago in Fiction
Dusty Oysters
“I’m trying to tell you, Clem, I’m a Dusty Oyster. Just like you and Billy Lee, Davy, Sherm and Stevie. It’s me, Fizzy. You remember, don’t ya?”
By majoki12 months ago in Fiction
Precision
Who’s on first? Queen takes knight. See you on the flip side. The thinner they sliced, the less they knew. The area under the curve shrank until it became quantumfied and, thus, small ball rules could be invoked.
By majoki12 months ago in Fiction
The Lost Season
Arthur’s Law was simple: a great photograph is not found, it is forged in the crucible of preparation. For Elara, a self-proclaimed "Leaf Peeper," this meant a military-grade itinerary. Her autumn pilgrimage to the Crimson Peaks was scheduled down to the minute: 5:47 AM sunrise at Eagle’s Point, 10:15 AM the golden glow on the Aspen Grove, 3:30 PM the fiery maples of Hemlock Ravine. She moved through the world with a tripod over her shoulder and a ticking clock in her head.
By Habibullah12 months ago in Fiction
The Last Human Programmer
Abdul hadi In the year 2049, nobody wrote code anymore—not real code. Artificial Intelligence had replaced every programmer, engineer, and developer. Entire systems were built by machines, improved by machines, and maintained by machines. Humans simply gave voice commands, and the AIs generated millions of optimized lines in seconds.
By Abdul Hadi12 months ago in Fiction