science fiction
The bridge between imagination and technological advancement, where the dreamer’s vision predicts change, and foreshadows a futuristic reality. Science fiction has the ability to become “science reality”.
Here We Grow the Big Trees
Here we grow the big trees. Here is where I plant the seeds and bed them in alien soil. The constant rain seeps through the richness of the mineral and the roots, like raindrops, follow. At dawn they are seedlings, at noon they are sprouts, and at dusk they are towers and giant hands reaching for the stars. They say it used to take months, decades, centuries for trees to grow. But this lonely planet, so desperate for companionship, bleeds life into everything it touches.
By Isaac Kaaren2 years ago in Futurism
Imprint (Pt. VI)
"Hello? Briggs? Someone get me out of here. What the hell is this Briggs!" Chelsea continued screaming and pounding on the blank walls with fury. After two hours of constant rage, General Matthews had ordered him to "Get in there and calm her the f--- down before she dies of a stroke!"
By Sydney Chapman2 years ago in Futurism
Error Code 314
It was midday when Evelyn stepped out of the elevator and into the artificial night of her apartment hallway. As the uneven fluorescent lights flickered to life, she made a mental review of the morning. There had been a call-out placed on an unassuming house in the middle of the suburbs, one of many nestled in a picturesque cul-de-sac. According to the case file that had been emailed to her last night, Amazon’s predicative analytics had shown that at approximately 10am this morning, the man who lived in this house would place an order for an excessive amount of Tylenol.
By Meg Challis2 years ago in Futurism
Their First and Last Birthday
I squeezed my beautiful wife Freddie's hand; we were both dilated to an 8. It was forever in the making: the birth of our children. We had a bright little room with a stunning mountain sunset painted on the walls. You could see every detail of the earth and every wavelength of colour from the sun. I loved how our children would be born in a room painted with such detail, delicacy, and awareness of the world's beauty. We were born in off-white rooms with cheap clocks on the wall back in my day. What does that represent? The bland, limited nature of our existence? I much prefer to represent the climb of life and natural artistry.
By Isabella Grandic2 years ago in Futurism
Crossing The Void
His hands trembled as he held the letter, his mind racing as it tried to process the words: You have a daughter. "What the hell? How long..? When could this have..? Why’d she keep her from me?" These questions flew through Drew's mind in a flurry of confusion.
By Doug Scavezze2 years ago in Futurism
They've Called Us Skinwalkers
"This is an account of an omni-sentient state of being's tribe member's relationships with a particular Owl, and a particular Buffalo; translated from unspoken language to English by me with a critical reason to share with you, Ghost A."
By Isaac Kimari Rush2 years ago in Futurism