Andrew Culhane
Bio
Poet. Writer. Musician.
Stories (3)
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The Blood in The Water
Like slick oil, suffused on puddles in the gloomy glow of traffic lights, there was blood in the water. You couldn’t see it unless you were looking for it, and although Gabriella’s face was smeared with fresh tears, she did notice the strange tint to the lapping tides, if only in passing. She wasn’t going anywhere in particular; Gabriella was just willing the pain in her heart to diffuse into her body and become physical through the act of walking. An old man shuffled past her, so focused on the burdening task of moving at his age that he did not stop to notice Gabriella’s anguish. All he felt was envy as he watched her bronzed, toned legs carry her forward.
By Andrew Culhane4 years ago in Horror
A Glimpse of Zin Azshari
Chapter 9: A Glimpse of Zin-Azshari A Preface for the Trial, authored by Aeris, the Primal Father Wisp. When a coral reef starts to die, there is a certain period of time when it starts to bleach, and algal mats creep slowly over the partially dead swathes of coral. The remaining live coral appears especially vibrant, and it is made strangely more beautiful to the observer by the inevitability of its doom. In hindsight, at the peak of its glory, our best memories of Zin-Azshari were no different. Looking upon that city could even bring a tear to the weathered eye of an Ancient.
By Andrew Culhane4 years ago in Gamers
Technical Blues
JP’s gaze fell down to the scratched brass twinkling in his iron grip. The way JP handled objects was very precise. One could almost call it mechanical. Since its change in ownership, the heart-shaped locket in JP’s clutches had never been opened. It wasn’t that it couldn’t be opened physically. JP had simply made a pact not to open it, and while he carried the rusted memento wherever he went, he didn’t do it out of sentiment. To him, the locket was a prized artifact of human behavior. It was the source of a greater, unanswered question. You see, JP hadn’t had a family or friends before the Fall, and so the subtleties and complexities of most human emotions were lost on him. Since picking up the locket, JP had dedicated himself wholeheartedly to understanding human emotions. Other survivors he had met had scorned his desire to understand. They wondered why JP hadn’t made his way to one of the AI-built supercities that had thrived since the Fall. Some analytical types even called him dysfunctional, which was quite a serious insult for the times. JP didn’t care. He was wired the way he was, and that was that.
By Andrew Culhane5 years ago in Futurism
