Is there life on Mars?
A lone astronaut thinks he has finally found the proof that scientists have long been looking for
08:00 UTC, Elysium Plains, the tiny blue disc of Earth visible above the rust-colored horizon.
“I think I’ve found it,” I said over the headset, struggling to crouch down in the cumbersome EVA suit. Peering through the visor into a tiny crevice in the rock, I could clearly see the microscopic mollusc-like organisms. Final proof that there was life on Mars. I wished I had a partner with me to collect samples.
“Whatcha lookin’ at buddy?”
It wasn’t the voice from behind that startled me, so much as the inquisitive green face and sprawling tentacles of its owner.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
About the Creator
Raymond G. Taylor
Author living in Kent, England. Writer of short stories and poems in a wide range of genres, forms and styles. A non-fiction writer for 40+ years. Subjects include art, history, science, business, law, and the human condition.
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More stories from Raymond G. Taylor and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Dawn
“Dawn of a new era…. time for the whole nation to come together…” Who was he kidding? He would never get us out of this fix with his worn-out platitudes. What we needed was real leadership, bold leadership, decisive leadership. All night long I listened to him refining his speech down the hall, for all the good it would do him. Then, just before daybreak, the muffled CRACK-CRACK I was waiting for, quickly followed by a hail of automatic fire. A pause, before the Secret Service man came bursting through the door.
By Raymond G. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
The One Who Stayed in the Dream
1 It started with the dream. Every night, I saw him. It was always the same. A boy with dark hair and calm eyes, sitting across from me at a café that doesn’t exist. The walls were pale yellow, the windows fogged from the rain outside, and there was always jazz playing softly in the background.
By Yamuni Kaijumi5 days ago in Fiction
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts5 days ago in Longevity
Comments (1)
Cute little story. I’m loving this theriocentricity - anthropomorphism exploration.