Sci Fi

Stupefaction
Stupefaction By: Cierra Bishop and Richard Reid Jr. Stupefaction, a word that is both unfamiliar, and very familiar to many. Yet, when we dissect the meaning of it, it can be argued on who or what it is applicable to. Does the term stupefaction refer to those who simply do not know and do not realize that they do not know? Or does it pertain to those who do not, and yet choose to continue on in the unknowing?
By Cierra Bishop5 years ago in Fiction
The Unconformity
In the Late Ordovician period, before continents rose and fell and rose and fell again, into the shape we know today, was a land we would not recognize as earth. What little life there was, was simple and sparse. What there was, however, was a couple small, fortunate parcels of land in this world, where conditions were just so, and life progressed rapidly and constantly. So constantly and rapidly that life, walking talking whining life, would develop millions of years before anywhere else. This glorious anomaly was not fated to last. It would wiped clean and swallowed whole, the grains of its existence washed away between layers of time turned to stone.
By Alexander Kovack5 years ago in Fiction
Looking into the Abyss
Night had usually come in long wisps of pastel. Tangerine and salmon bleeding together until they fell away into dusty rose and, finally, the deep indigo-black of the ocean. Night had usually come in on the soft rush of waves, the wind carrying in a fine spray that glittered beneath the street lights. Night had usually come in like a dream. But not that night.
By Shaw5 years ago in Fiction
War Babies Pt. 2
Chapter 2 I was back on schedule the next day, up at six, breakfast, meds and wait for my tutor. I wasn’t allowed to go to regular school, so I was homeschooled. I didn’t miss school though, a popularity contest of idiots and bitches. I would have burned it into the ground with them in it if I had my way. Why should they get a life that they take for granted, when I struggle every day to stay on schedule. Walt came promptly at eight, like most mornings. I went through the motions and did my work. Deep down, I wanted him to go away and never return. He was emotionless, like a robot trained to teach. He never held a conversation with me that wasn’t work related. Never talked about himself or his life outside this house. It seemed like forever before we were done for the day. I gave him a little trouble, didn’t want them to think I was being too good. After Walt left, I went out to check on my garden. I watered it like the book said to and looked around for weeds that may have grown overnight. I went back into the house and pretended to read the le gardening book, mostly followed my dad around telling him gardening tips. “How about you go up to your room to read? Or the tree house? I’m trying to get some work done here and you’re making it difficult.” I looked a little down, “Ok dad, I’ll quit pestering you. Can I have some snacks to take with me?” He pulled out some graham crackers and a couple bottles of juice. “Knock yourself out. Don’t tell your mom I gave you the whole pack. She’ll have my ass.” We giggled at that. I left the house and hurried to my private forest. I carefully looked around to make sure he didn’t follow me. As soon as I felt like I was alone, I retrieved the book from it’s hiding spot and bolted for the tree house. I left the trap door open so it wouldn’t look like I was hiding if my dad came to check on me. I sat on my sofa and made sure the gardening book was open to a page that I had already read, that way I could answer questions if he came up. Ready to shove the secret book into the cushions if need be. I opened to the first page and was amazed by the list of things that lay before me. The contents page was a list of experiments and the dates they started and ended. Some had no ending date.I turned to the first page of the book.
By Mysticpyrate5 years ago in Fiction
One Long Sunday of Love
The fan moved the still air around the bunker. Since the crash of 2025, air had become a precious commodity. So the irony of the wind generator running the fan in the bunker to circulate the stale air wasn't wasted on Harper.
By Sam H Arnold5 years ago in Fiction
Captain's Log
Note from the author: This piece takes place in a universe where Pan American survived past its closure date, and well into the future. Global warming, and most other issues, have also been solved at this point, but are not important within the story's context. It should also be noted that this was originally a university assessment piece I submitted earlier this year, but has since been edited to create a slightly more believable story.
By Lily Oxford5 years ago in Fiction
Lost in Time - The Forgotten Sands
My lips cracked, and the wind cut through me, biting into the exposed skin. The arid air filled my lungs with dust, and I opened my eyes to shield them from the harsh sunlight. The howling of the wind broke the silence only. It tore through me, leaving paper-cut-like scars on my exposed skin. I stood up slowly. My body ached, my scorched skin stiffened against the sudden motion. How did I get here?
By Caillete Rose5 years ago in Fiction
Crown
In his right hand, cupped in his palm was a small copper bowl filled with fragrant burning incense. As he walked toward the alter the smoke rose and danced in the air creating a screen across his tattooed face. His steps were patient and rhythmic, the hem of his red satin robe trailed behind across the mosaic floor.
By LaQuele Frazier5 years ago in Fiction
Xirem
“XIREM” Copyright © 2021 Tabitha Luc. All rights reserved. This story or any portions thereof may not be reproduced or used in any matter whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Portions of this book are works of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblances to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.
By Tabitha Luc5 years ago in Fiction
Where Am I?
Where AM I? So I've decided to compile these collections so that there's proof of what I've been experiencing should anything happen to me; maybe for my kids to find, or for me to give to them, one day (hopefully give). Maybe if they're like me this will help answer some questions. I hope. Ok, here I go..
By Eleanor A Innocent5 years ago in Fiction
The Tales of Gary & Sire In Astoria
Once upon a time there was an alien named “Gary”, and his alien dog, “Sire”. They both lived in a special unfortunate planet that was only made up of imagination, mystical creatures, and colors. There was never a dull time they lived on this planet since there was so much fun there was so much fun they were able to have and different things to do since both of them were magical and creative with ideas. There was no limit to what they could do as long as they were together and didn’t mind facing the challenges that their planet Astoria had in store.
By Jerome Lamar McQuarter Jr5 years ago in Fiction
The Ones Who Remember
She'd forgotten him, and in that he'd lost everything. “Get away from me!” She screamed, writhing against his athletic arms as he secured her ties to a seat. He had to move quickly if this was going to work. As he tightened the last knot her eyes twitched between his face and the iodine sky. Three days ago she at least remembered his face, but now? He was lucky if she noticed he was breathing.
By Jordan Marshall5 years ago in Fiction