Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Futurism.
HYDROPONICS
What is Hydroponic Farming? Hydroponics is a set of horticulture and a subset of hydroculture. It involves growing healthy plants without using a traditional soil medium using a nutrient like a mineral-rich water solution instead. A plant needs select nutrients, some water, and sunlight to grow.
Ridhi organicPublished 3 years ago in FuturismThe Triple Scorpio
☼Sun sign: Scorpio ☾Moon sign: Scorpio ▲Rising sign: Scorpio Yup...that's me. Please don't run away, I promise I'm nice!
The Pale Gray Dot
“It’s late Ellison.” A voice said, breaking the silence so suddenly it startled the old library. Its joints creaked and moaned as they jolted awake.
Jacob TuchynerPublished 3 years ago in FuturismThe Sting of the Scorpion
I am an early November birthday, therefore my astrological sign is Scorpio. I have always been a passionate person, especially about things I truly believe in. Let’s just say I am almost 100% trait for trait a true Scorpio.
The Greed Ledger
Trainees are God’s way of humbling the accomplished, Caleb thought, as Thomas Charlemagne “Call-me-Charlie” Castille complained about the monotony of their surveillance detail. It made Caleb wonder why the younger man was pursuing a career as a warrior-priest at all, especially given his background of privilege.
Jess & Keith FlahertyPublished 3 years ago in FuturismDaemon
Artfully etched stone walls glow a soft orange against the flames of the hearth at the center of a room. Above it, a large square cut out in the ceiling makes the night sky visible from within the quarters. In front of a hefty standing mirror which leans against a wall is a chair gilded in gold, too small to be considered a throne but with all of the details and presence of royalty. Massive throw pillows, furs and ornate fabrics lay atop a veiled canopy bed in one of the corners of the room. Sheer fabrics dance in the night air and obscure a female frame. Eyes resembling nature’s primal forces twinkle in quiet contemplation until a voice is heard clearing its throat from outside the rose colored curtain that acts as a barrier to the room. Though she doesn’t move, her eyes shoot at the curtain like a predatory creature.
voshon lopezPublished 3 years ago in FuturismI KNOW THERE IS MELANIN SOMEWHERE
I'm not white. I'm not black. I'm not rich. I'm not poor. I'm not a man. I'm not always perceived as a woman. I'm not intelligent, or rather a genius.
War of Souls: Shadow of Jealousy
War of Souls: Shadow of Jealousy The Azaleas in Ancilla Priori’s front yard had failed to bloom. Once heavy with vibrant flowers, the bush was now decaying and barren. Running her fingertips across an exposed twig, she used her fingernail to loosen some of the gray fungi that was suffocating the plant. The lichen seemed to have materialized overnight, choking the branches and preventing the plant from flowering. Several hurricanes, severe tropical storms, and endless cloudy skies had left Ancilla wanting a refund from the sunshine state for false advertisement. Feeling defeated, she tossed the lichen aside and headed across the lawn toward her garage.
Illimitable
It started pretty small. Little things, like I’d have a thought. Let’s say, ice cream. I’d think about ice cream on my way to work in the morning. Innocuous enough, no? Yet I’d walk into the break room at lunch and lo! Free ice cream was being doled out by a rather uncharacteristically jolly boss, apparently doing his best impression of a cartoon chef. (He was wearing kitchen gloves that matched the yellow of his plaid shirt, which stretched precariously over his protruding belly.) Or how about a scarf. The weather was unseasonably cold one February morning, and I thought, gosh, I could really use a scarf. That day a friend came over with an extra one she’d cleverly procured with a buy-one-get-one deal. Fortuitous! And then there was my favorite, the toilet brush. The toilet brush head broke off in the toilet one Saturday (causing me to swear loudly and spend the next few moments in utter wonder: was this even possible?), and the next day, sneakily hidden behind a stack of suspiciously aged potatoes, I found a shiny new one in my basement, completely wrapped in plastic. I have no recollection of every buying said brush.
Verity EarlPublished 3 years ago in FuturismPhoenix Rising
The reaction from people when I say, “Oh, I’m a Scorpio” varies from a step back to “I know that means you’re a freak” and the occasional “A lot of Scorpios are serial killers”. Yes, the majority of serial killers statistically are Scorpios, but it’s our passionate ethics that drive us to the most extreme. We are often misunderstood in the most complex form of the definition. There is a key piece of information that most people are not aware of about Scorpios, and is one of the main reasons for our misconceptions. There are three stages to the Scorpio: The Scorpion, The Eagle, and The Phoenix. Some Scorpios can evolve into all three, be stuck on one level and never evolve, or achieve only two stages. Scorpios can intertwine all stages, or once evolved into the next stage completely phase out the one before. We are all uniquely intense, passionate, mysterious, and freaky. One Scorpio may possess similar traits to another, but the way we utilize them all differ.
Christina DeFeoPublished 3 years ago in FuturismDestination Mars
Hi mum, I know it’s a bit old school me handwriting a diary for you like this. By the time you get it you won’t have heard from me much for a couple of years - the data packets are super expensive to send back from Mars, and they’re pretty unreliable anyway. We can’t post things regularly, and it takes a long time to get to you when we do, but once this is filled up I’ll send it to you.
In The Stars It is Written
Some may argue that the stars dictate whom you are? I beg to differ, ‘dictation’ of whom you are is not only written in the stars, fore, you are the very fibers that compose those clusters of dust! You are the celestial body that those nuclear cores churn and burn for. The Taurus constellation is composed of the essence of which that I am born of and born from. It is my ‘château of fortitude’....it is my ‘Merkabah’.
Tyronn Rahda MonroePublished 3 years ago in Futurism