Sci Fi
Death, interrupted. Top Story - December 2022.
Kirn's death is rudely interrupted by a droning sound outside the house. Screwing her eyes shut tighter, she draws a labored breath. It doesn't matter, she reminds herself, there's nothing out there: as the last human on Earth, she's certain of this much. This sound must be an illusion, some auditory hallucination from dehydration. It means she's nearly there, finally one foot in the grave! Appeased, she pushes her hand over the bed sheets to squeeze Ashami's cold arm. She only manages a caress, but that's enough to draw them closer together: they were linked in life, and soon they shall be in death too.
By Claire Guérin4 years ago in Fiction
Happy Travels
“Are you still interested in the job, Ms. Brighton?” the AI inquired. Torrance was not interested in the work itself. She needed the pay. If not now, then soon. Her savings were no longer as healthy as they’d once been. And even then, they hadn’t been enough. She had no credit amount in mind to equate with peace of mind.
By Adrian Hollomon4 years ago in Fiction
Baby Food
I heard the drone before I saw it. A loud beat of wings like an angry dragonfly and then an insistent mechanical voice demanding I come outside to sign for a package. I’d been getting communications about it all day. No indication of who it was from—just a message to say it was coming to my address and I should be ready.
By Catherine Moffat4 years ago in Fiction
The Postman
There are days life feels so mundane I’d do almost anything to get out of living it. Well, almost anything. I suppose there are a few things I won’t do if I’m still here doing this instead. In a way, I am happy to be sitting in my kitchen on a gloomy Sunday morning–late morning, where you know the sun is hiding brightly behind the clouds but it’s out of sight because the rain is too loud. I get the chance to hear each drop pitter-patter on my tin roof, along the walls. I am in awe every day of these simple delights; like coffee in my cup and a newspaper to thumb.
By Lolly Paige Lennox4 years ago in Fiction
McCallister's Gift
McCallister’s Gift By Derrick L. The touchtone keypad at the front door chimed behind Alistair’s ears as the sound of the electronic lock disengaged. The scrape of metal on metal echoed as the door latch slid across the strike plate. The thump of polyurethane boots clunked against the linoleum floor; someone was standing in the threshold of his home.
By Derrick L.4 years ago in Fiction
Box of Other Worlds
There I was, thirty-two years around the sun, living in a world filled with mysteries; or so that's what I thought. The carrier drone had left a package out on my front porch this afternoon, though I was sure I hadn't ordered anything. I could see the unwanted act through my door camera as I continued to ignore the computer assignments in front of me. I never quite trusted those carrier drones, snooping around in this futuristic era of technology. I could only think of the poor souls who lost their jobs to such devices. Truly a devastation no one could account for, and yet here we were, in this so-called future of “possibilities”; a world consisting of mainly mechanism, and the other seventy-eight percent was homelessness.
By Kendra J. Anthony4 years ago in Fiction
Mining Man
He placed his gloved hand over his brow and wiped. He was hot and sweaty, the work was hard, grinding. His face was smeared with dirt , and his clothes were musty smelling. Five years he had been working in this mine. They had a pretty good haul just a few weeks ago. He lifted his Pick ax and hummed as he sheathed it into the rock above him. He again wondered why the hell he didn’t go to college. His old man was on his case about it, but he was a miner too. His father had mined for the war, tungsten, barite, and lead to make bullets. He had finished high school, and started working for the same company as his pop. It was not that he was dumb, he really liked mechanics and figuring out things. Kids used to bring him their broken bikes and he had this innate talent to fix them, even better than they were. Yeah , he was smart alright, just not book smart. Sometimes he would get things backwards, numbers, letters, and he had to figure out how to make them right. He figured out a system, and from then things improved, but it was too late for college acceptance. Working in the shaft made sense, his father had done it , his grandfather as well, and now he did it, a family tradition. He stopped for a minute and grabbed his canteen. The cool water trickled down his dusty throat.
By compassion244 years ago in Fiction
Layered
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. A clear reminder of what I need to do. A trip from work is often a good token but this was representative of my one chance left and a reminder I shouldn't mess up. The toleration of me so far, I feel has been because they know my charismatic parents and their belief I'm not maximizing my ability, at least not yet. I can be an artist but it just doesn't serve me. This four day work trip up to Minnesota sounded interesting. I drove to the cabin, a fellow employee recommended with with my friend to enjoy a little break on her maternity leave. She was uneasy about doing this due to her worry and attachment her son, Adrien. It also seemed out of tradition for the Douglas family women but her husband, Kellen encouraged her to take the opportunity. " Inès, are you good? We're here now!", I said. She wakes up a bit groggy and apologized for sleeping through most of the four hour drive there. "Oh please don't apologize", I tell her. "Auri, this looks great. I hope the drive wasn't too bad.",she said. To which I reply it was fine.
By Merritt Xavier4 years ago in Fiction
True North. Runner-Up in Weekend Getaway Challenge.
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. Ponderosa Pines pitched low and forward from the weight of the latest storm. The wheels of my car creaked and crunched through the unpaved path. I moved slowly, but he and I buzzed together side-by-side, giddy with anticipation of our impending adventure.
By Kaitlin Oster4 years ago in Fiction
