Sci Fi

Eleanor
Eleanor Once the Metatronic Rebirth had been suppressed by the uncompromising will of the Humanist Republic, life took a sour turn for Eleanor.
By D C Bannister5 years ago in Fiction
Shift
The subjects shivered in the sharply lit waiting room, wondering if this cold, steely environment was part of the testing process. Sleepless, stretched to oblivion, the harsh light pierced into their eyelids forcing wakefulness ahead of the impending examination.
By Cait M5 years ago in Fiction
Scavenger
She hated scavenging. Searching through peoples’ abandoned belongings, trying to find anything useful, made her feel dirty. It was her turn though, and the camp was tense. Their gardens were not doing well this year. They needed non-perishables.
By Bethany G5 years ago in Fiction
It's Really Coming Down Out There
As detailed in Local Ordinance No. 127, Mondays through Fridays at six a.m., all eligible devices and receivers turned themselves on and tuned to Newton Farms Township’s mandatory corporate bandwidth.
By Chris Witeof5 years ago in Fiction
Optimization of Production
Quality vs quantity? This cliched squabble transcends worlds and across time. So which is more important? Quality, replied the impassioned artisan, the detail and care I put into every product makes it flawless and irreplaceable. You will know the value of quality work when you see it. A cheaper option will be no match.
By elizabeth he5 years ago in Fiction
Bound by Blood
Sweat pooled in my brow as I awoke to excruciating heat; the power outages that had become so common had again caused the air-conditioner to turn off and left me reeling in the stillness of the dry air. We had been assured that the power outages would no longer be an issue with large investments in wind farms and renewable energy. It was strange; the people like my sister Karen had gone from denying climate change to sustainability extraordinaires so quickly that we had to wonder if they knew something they weren’t telling us.
By Angie Morrison5 years ago in Fiction
IRT Seventh Avenue Line
After the bombs, ice is the only constant. Children are born and die of hunger a dozen times before the end of winter. Those who remember the sunshine search for it through slits in insulated windows and the annual opening of the subway doors. They send the oldest up to open the doors—one less mouth to feed if the sacrifice doesn’t make it back to the tunnels.
By Nicole Rizzuto5 years ago in Fiction
Epiphany
“Oh my God. Oh … my … God.” “Are you OK?” “Ohhhhhhhhhhh.” Mary watched Catharine sink into the leather and pull her legs to her chest.
By Jay Campbell5 years ago in Fiction
Beneath A Honeysuckle
"We shouldn't be out here, Solaer." "If a Guardsman catches us, we're dead." "You mean they'll send us for reconditioning."
By S.R.Robertson_Author5 years ago in Fiction
"Shattered Memories of Days Gone"
It’s been three days since the world has been in total discord. And, since everything had gone down, Jack and I have been surviving. Something terrible has happened and we’re still not sure what’s going on. We have been walking around the city for what seems like weeks - in search of a safe place to hide for a few days. We walked through endless, empty neighborhoods, one after the other. These neighborhoods, which were once alive and full of life, memories and people, were now empty and mere shadows of what we once knew - just a few days prior. Occasionally, I would see a mysterious shadow in a window as we walked past the houses, looking out in despair, with what seemed like a slight glimmer of hope. As time goes by, the houses seem to warp as if I was in a dream – a really bad dream. But, I knew we were awake – as no dream has ever been this real.
By Bee5 years ago in Fiction
Not So Far as the Stars
In the morning their conversation turns to dreams. She says she dreams of his home, though she's never been. And of the green and red trees and the people who climb the trees to keep the cutters from coming. In truth, the cutters don’t check so much if there’s a climber in the trees these days, but it’s hours too early to turn the talk somber so he sends a sleepy smile:). Says maybe soon the air will thicken up enough to get the lockdown lifted and she can see the trees awake. It’s a crude veil for a clumsy invitation, but in the bleary semiconscious of solitude, subtlety evades. He hopes he's played the game by the rules. He hopes she sees the invitation, but only if she’s looking for it. He hopes she’s looking for it.
By Quinn Miller5 years ago in Fiction
Butterfly Menagerie
The Silver Queen had seen better days. What once had been a smooth milky canvas of youth was beginning to sour. The lines of her face were not forged with laughter or joy, but from the cruel, callous sculptor of time.
By Jessie Hiscox5 years ago in Fiction