Mark Stigers
Bio
One year after my birth sputnik was launched, making me a space child. I did a hitch in the Navy as a electronics tech. I worked for Hughes Aircraft Company for quite a while. I currently live in the Saguaro forest in Tucson Arizona
Stories (369)
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Seventeen Poles
The phone played the Candy Man by Sammy Davis Jr. It was Dave. He said, “Dude, it’s an ounce of Black Bat Shrooms. Let’s throw a Halloween boonies party for the gang. We’ll get a keg and some good weed. It will be like the old days. We can go to Seventeen Poles. No one will bother us there.”
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Potent
The Old Mans Message
Playing the message tone, I paused and looked at my phone. The old man had sent a massive message with an attachment of pictures. I just did not have time to look at them right now. I continued to work on the planning. The instructions on how to make the power supply for the Greased Lightning had failed a government inspection. The production of the hypersonic drone was the company’s bread and butter contract. We made one a week, and the government experimented on them at White Sands, New Mexico. The assemblers were doing things, not in the instructions. It had taken all day to collect the notes from the assemblers, and now I had to put them in the planning. When I finished, it was 9:25 pm. I logged out of the computer, locked the area up, and went home.
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Fiction
Where Do the Deleted Go
Alan was mad! His car had gone too far! His head still hurt where he banged it on the car roof. He stormed into his apartment. He dropped his briefcase by the door as it closed and locked itself. He tossed his suit coat and tie at the living room sofa and quickly walked into the link room. He sat down on his computer link couch and laid back. The connection from reality to cyberspace was almost instantaneous. To Alan, the scene changed, and he was sitting behind his desk. In this virtual reality was his personnel computer console room. His computer-generated image or avatar spoke into the microphone attached to the headset he was wearing in the simulation.
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Fiction
Live at Five
Live at Five a Trail of Blood and Gore ... In the back part of the park. The part where there was no trail. The full moon shined through the trees in dusty shafts to an agonized figure below. Logan screamed out in pain as human features faded and wolf like ones became more pronounced. There was a canine snout, with wolf like ears, a tail and huge padded wolf feet, vicious claws and teeth. A howl in the park let all those foolish enough to be there after hours know, that tonight that might have been a bad idea.
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Horror
The Cost of Wampum
We need a Galactic Internet Connection before Russia,” was neatly printed in green ink on a clean piece of cardboard. Doctor Eli Prod held the sign in one hand. In his other hand was an aluminum foil-lined hat. He watched as a pulse of people started up from the subway during the morning rush.
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Fiction
A Trek to Inner Peace
You must be a Zen master to do the hobby of rocketry, well. Every part of the hobby requires discipline. Let your concentration slip, and the rocket may not fly again at the least. Hopefully, it does not cause a problem. You can just put the kit together, or you can make a masterpiece. Something that other hobbyists will respect. Make it an expression of perfection.
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Education
