William Cheshire
Bio
I am a neurologist who enjoys writing about things that matter.
Stories (2)
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The End of Chocolate
John felt nothing as he watched with curiosity a mosquito that had landed on his arm. Its tiny proboscis, like a syringe, probed beneath his skin until it sank into a warm, pulsing capillary. As the mosquito silently sipped his blood, John thought of the millions of people worldwide who each year are infected with deadly diseases by mosquitoes just like this one. He could swat at it, but why bother? Inevitably another would find him, probably while he slept, if only he could sleep. There was no rest to be found in cell 26, and nowhere to escape. Tomorrow at sunrise, John was scheduled to be taken down the hallway, strapped to a cold metal table, fastened to a heart monitor, and injected by a hypodermic needle containing a mixture of lethal chemicals. As a condemned prisoner on death row, John's time was up. All legal appeals had proved futile, so solid was his conviction for having committed most heinous murder, not of one person, but of thousands.
By William Cheshire5 years ago in Criminal
Before Solitarius
"Ever wonder what happened to all the trees?" asked Sani. Lost in thought and neglecting her lunch, his granddaughter Haseya, who had just graduated from high school and was visiting from Maryland, gazed out his apartment window to a bleary, barren sandscape of dirt and debris stretching as far as the eye could see. Dust clouds danced at the edge of an enormous crater that marked the center of a radial array of white lines etched in the scorched ochre soil and extending out, like spokes of a wheel, for miles in all directions. The empty sky, drained of blue, invited no birds, nor were there any trees or branches on which birds might rest. Lying crooked across the forbidding wasteland was a long, white, fallen rectangular structure with a pointed end. Its crumbling stones, vaguely aligned, had long ago forgotten how to fit together.
By William Cheshire5 years ago in Futurism
