humanity
The evolution of humanity, from one advancement to the next.
What We Kept
Mara knew the time because the clock above the circulation desk still worked. Its red second hand swept past the twelve while twenty-three students, three librarians, and a man waiting to use the public printer stared down at the black rectangles in their hands. For several seconds nobody spoke. Then chairs scraped back, screens were tapped and shaken, buttons held too long. Someone laughed. Someone else said the campus Wi-Fi must be down.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzalesa day ago in Futurism
Psychometry: The ability to perceive the past by touching an object
Do you or someone you know have the ability to touch an object and feel you know something about it? If so, you, or they, may be operating in Psychometry. This word comes from the Greek psukhē, which means "spirit, or soul" and μέτρον, which is metron, or "measure".
By Cheryl E Preston6 days ago in Futurism
The Hackers!!!
DEATH OF THE SIGNAL They called themselves The Midnight Archangels , a constellation of misfits who believed the world could be rewritten if you just bent the right line of code. They worked in an abandoned observatory perched above the city—dusty telescopes, cracked star charts, and a droning circle of laptops casting pale light on their faces.
By Novel Allen10 days ago in Futurism
In the Flow of His Life's Sweeping Existence
In the flow of life's sweeping existence, there is a silhouetted discovery that surges through the plains of my independent fight. It is much lighter weighted, adrift with vibrant new life: an antidote to the fallen stars that haunt the raindrops of my stubborn sky, digestible across the new plains of my existence. It pulses in a space I'd sweep with the breadth of ecstasy, infinite yet cumulative to the wonders of a universe that never ceases. If this yet to reach discovery withstands the bonds of time and wraps the light of my breadth's trails in a cherished trove, let it be. It will satiate the deep emptiness that swirls within like hot, triple-smoked rings, doubting the very silhouette of a future that I avoid.
By Susan L. Marshall17 days ago in Futurism
The old man with the map was having a great day
The silence came at 2:14 on a Tuesday. I was standing in line at the coffee shop on 4th Street, waiting for a cold brew, watching the guy in front of me tap his phone screen over and over. Behind the counter, the barista was holding an iPad, tapping the glass with a sharp clack-clack-clack.
By Annam M Gordon17 days ago in Futurism
Static Ovah the Kennebec
Linda always said Bowdoinham mornings looked like God forgot to turn the brightness up. Fog rolled in thick and low, swallowing the rivah, the trees, and half the Town Landing like it was tryin’ to erase the place one bite at a time. She stood theyah at 7:12 AM, sippin’ coffee that tasted like burnt driftwood and bad decisions, watchin’ the Kennebec breathe like some big creature sleepin’ under the surface.
By Syl De'Vil20 days ago in Futurism
We Don't Know the Way...
I unplugged my phone, rolled onto my side, and tapped the small blue icon. That dotted white chat bubble was supposed to open last night’s conversation, where my unfinished draft sat waiting. Instead, nothing happened. The home screen wouldn't let me into the world I craved so desperately—the one I had conditioned myself to need. It just stared back at me, frozen. Forever stuck. Forever waiting. Forever gone.
By K.H. Obergfoll22 days ago in Futurism
