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 Death of Earth
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. How did I get to this part of space heading towards a new planet of a galaxy, I've never heard of? Why was I chosen to try out this planet? I think I'm more of a sacrifice than a privilege to be one of the first to go. They called it “taking one for the team” . I have a general distaste for other humans. I have no illusions that any of them cared for me, but I was strong and seemed to be resistant to most viruses and healthy. They thought I had a greater chance at survival. I'll tell you how it all began.
By Katie Lewis2 years ago in Futurism
Problem Train
I sit up gasping, disoriented. A figure next to me calls out “C’mon! Get up!” and hauls me to my feet. Something about this feels familiar, but I don’t know how or why. I look out of the window next to me and realize that I’m in a bloody train car. A gun is thrust into my hands and I look up at the figure and freeze. I study his dark, tousled hair and his square jaw. He moves to brace himself against the side of the door with his own gun pointed down the corridor to the left. His shirt is rolled up to his elbows and his forearms flex as he switches directions. I suck in a breath and stagger forward a step, realizing that I am in the stupidest, tightest red dress and stiletto heels.
By Carla J Perkins2 years ago in Futurism
Tiangong Spring Festival Gala "special visitors
February 1, 2049, yuan more resumed, century-old renovation. Hundreds of millions of Chinese are immersed in the festival and peace to welcome their own New Year, thousands of miles away in the space of a shining Chinese star like a meteor across the sky over Beijing, CCTV Spring Festival Gala live footage of the China Space station and Tiananmen Square framed a romantic moment.
By Eric George2 years ago in Futurism
Through the Golden Door
The sense of motion and regular clattering from below let Liam know he was on a train before he even opened his eyes. He had no memory of boarding for a trip and no idea of where, if anywhere, he was supposed to be, or where he might be going. Laying there, comforted by the rhythm of the conveyance, Liam wondered if he was dreaming within a dream. The distant sound of the locomotive’s steam-whistle far ahead broke his reverie.
By J. Otis Haas2 years ago in Futurism
Visions of 1991 from 1970
"The prophets, the messenger angels of the Gospels, Delphic oracles, Arab stargazers, Tibetan lamas, medieval astrologists, wandering Gypsies, saints, poets and charlatans--all have tried their hand at probing the future. Then came the science-fiction writers, plagues of them, and they are still coming. Is, then, another book devoted to this overworked subject worthy of special note? Yes, if it is unique."
By Buck Hardcastle2 years ago in Futurism
Journey through Before
As the school bus slid to a halt in the water logged soil, the Amazon Rainforest was vast before the children, each of them astonished by the heights of the trees and the vibrancy of the colors surrounding them. The teacher gathered them all into a tight group and began giving them several facts about the forest and the incredible amount of biodiversity which exists in such an environment as they traversed the brush. The students listened intently, a sense that several of these facts would be present on a future exam.
By Michael Lejuez2 years ago in Futurism
Jumpstart
The little blue light blinks a steady rhythm as Apocalypse enters the upper atmosphere. The whole world has been watching this mysterious thing for weeks as it approaches Earth. It hasn’t been classified yet because it isn’t a known celestial object. Not a comet we knew of nor an asteroid we were expecting. Whatever it was, it was heading right for us, and we could do nothing to stop it.
By H.G. Silvia2 years ago in Futurism
A Case of Deja View
It was barely 8:30 AM, and already the brutal Arizona heat made holding the handle to my shop door difficult as I unlocked the deadbolt and slid back the security gate. The familiar sound of the fluorescent lights starting up, the pops and pings, reminded me that I had another twelve hours of artificial light to bathe in before sleep would come again.
By H.G. Silvia2 years ago in Futurism