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”.
The Pass
Jaq slowed himself to a jog and turned to face his companion, "Make haste, swordsman," he roared. Lucas looked up to see a row of stained fangs, locked together in a mouth the size of his entire head. It was a smile, if you could believe it. The way the lynax's lion-esq face contorted in the attempt made him look more like a maddened beast than a happy one. It seemed to Lucas that he was always a mixture of both, especially before a fight. The burning pools of gold that were Jaq's eyes bore his bloodlust well. His mane bristled with excitement.
By H. R. Nelson6 years ago in Futurism
What does that mean, exactly?
There's a particular cushion on my family's big L-shaped couch that is far and away my favorite place to be. It's dented just right to curl up on with a book or one of my favorite shows. Those of you with long-loved pieces of furniture know what I'm talking about, the way it fits you, welcomes you, knows and draws out your very deepest sense of comfort and home.
By Sterling Magleby6 years ago in Futurism
Emerald Oasis 7A
"Can you hear that?" Joyce asked one of the nurses as she noticed the doors rumbling. Looking above she saw pixies poledancing on the bulbs. Another group f fairies where by the doors loosening up with the screws. Staff had wondered why thee was sudden floods in the bathrooms and loose screws everywhere. Telling the truth would be futile, nobody would believe her if she said it was the fairies running amok.
By Chloe Gilholy6 years ago in Futurism
Emerald Oasis 12/18
Blackpool: the pinnacle of Joyce's childhood. When Fore brought her to Blackpool in his shed, it was a ghost town. Back again, it was an even darker ghost town. The one thing that never changed was the seagulls cries and the sea crashing onto the grains of the sand.
By Chloe Gilholy6 years ago in Futurism
Emerald Oasis 11/18
"Joyce... Joyce.... Joyce." When her dream ended, the voice got louder. Her eyes still closed, pitch dark with hues so dark to distinguish. Her eyes opened, as she shook her head. The church was hailing with golden glitter like a harsh winter storm. She felt warm in a room full of fairies.
By Chloe Gilholy6 years ago in Futurism
Emerald Oasis 10/18
Summer in the 1950's was the pinnacle of Joyce's adulthood. All the memories she had of her youth were innocent and fruitful. Holding Oscar's hand as they took gentle walks up and down Blackpool's piers. The proposal at sunset followed by wild parties on Saturday nights.
By Chloe Gilholy6 years ago in Futurism
Emerald Oasis 9/18
Rodger snatched the night nurse's car keys, as much to Joyce's disdain. The four of them, including Dorothy and the apparent immobile Victoria, strolled down the reception area. He popped the keys into his pocket and fiddled with the cupboard behind the counter.
By Chloe Gilholy6 years ago in Futurism
Emerald Oasis 7F/18
"Oh doesn't he go on?" Mimi moaned. "He's so rude and full of himself." "And snooty," Emily said in agreement. She dashed over to the lamps and with the click of her fingers, the lampshades returned to their original positions. Joyce and Hisashi worked together with the fairies to tidy up the lounge. By the time they had finished, it was getting close to tea time. Rodger came into the room just as Hisashi limped out.
By Chloe Gilholy6 years ago in Futurism
Emerald Oasis 7B
The First Royal Family By Marcus Ickersurfs It is believed that all fairies alive today are direct descendants of Henry Khan. He led his army to victory in a ghastly war that shook the world of fairies forever. He was granted the title of Fairy Emperor and was the first world leader of fairies.
By Chloe Gilholy6 years ago in Futurism
Murderbot Taught Me About Myself. And About Humans, Too
My absolute favourite series of the last few years is The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells. It is made up of several novellas and a recent novel, Network Effect. Turns out, I am far from alone. You'd be hard-pressed to find someone who does not like this book or series.
By Erica Ball6 years ago in Futurism
Ask Not for Whom the Light Dies
The false dawn washed soft and cold across a thin strange horizon, and Yusef Rakotoarisoa set down his rifle and watched. He was not on watch yet, did not have to rise from his seat on the rickety bench, but he would be soon. From behind a long heavy magazine in one of his armor's many ammunition pouches, he took a paper photograph, and held it in front of his face.
By Sterling Magleby6 years ago in Futurism
