J. Phillip Parker
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Stories (2)
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Hand of Penance
Damian woke to a ticking sound coming from his pocket and a splitting headache. Investigating the noise with his hand he felt cold metal in his pocket and retrieved a fob watch he didn’t recall owning. Looking around him he saw the interior of a train, the fancy kind of train car he could never hope to afford to ride in. The kind he’d sooner hijack, regardless. Everyone but him seemed to be sleeping peacefully, with punched tickets resting at their sides.
By J. Phillip Parker3 years ago in Fiction
The Perfect World
S-I was sitting in his class, the teacher explaining the history of the 7th zone’s darker walls, to minimize particularly common deviance here. His voice was a grey monotone. As S-I caught up to the teacher in his notes, the booming signal of dismissal rang a deep red. Class was dismissed, and S-I sat up from his desk. A classmate, 23-14, was saying something in his voice of harsh, ugly reds and browns.
By J. Phillip Parker3 years ago in Fiction
