Sci Fi
Slippity Sloppity the Dough Monster is Gloppity
An oowey gooey place this world has become. Snakes and pineapples are friends. The world ended in 2020 after U2 was discovered performing a secret concert on the Epstein Island. Folks like J Lo, Jimmy Dean (yes, the sausage man), and even motherfuckin’ Kenny G attended the event. There were rumors of Justin Bieber having thumb wars with Donald Trump behind the stage, but no one got any evidence of it so people kind of left that alone.
By Cassidy Charneski5 years ago in Fiction
Hope
Part of me knew this was a stupid idea. Life as I knew it was crumbling around me, and rather than following the rational train of thought and running for my life; I ran straight back into danger. It was deafening, yet silencing; there were people everywhere grasping for items they thought would be useful in this situation. Screaming, destruction and countless cars in flames; and an hour ago I was finishing my shift in the grocer worrying about my outfit for a party tonight. As I ran into High Street from the alley, I locked eyes with Eve. Her long blonde hair billowing around her as she stared, arms filled to the brim with food she’d clearly stolen. I know I looked like hell, I was covered in dirt and there was dried blood caked around my hairline from where I’d hit my head on the steering wheel of my car. Her mouth open closed, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was also grappling with the memory of the first time we met at a whole five years old. I started to approach her, desperate to find out of she had a plan. The unmistakeable roar of those tore through the air, scattering the crowd of people on High Street. Eve turning on her heel and hightailing out of the street. A man ran, bumping me on his way past; breaking me out of my stupor. Sprinting across the road, I jumped through the shattered pub window, jumping over people and heading straight for the kitchen to hide. I went straight for the walk in industrial fridge, wedging it open with a tea towel from one of the benches. I slid underneath one of the wire shelving units; the chill of the floor grounding me.
By Grace Haddow5 years ago in Fiction
Covering Nuke
Jamie was starting to get bored in her class while her teacher went on about some history lesson. It was yet again some boring lecture about some old guy from a long time ago. Jamie thought, “I can’t wait for summer vacation to come and then after that be in middle school finally,” she thought middle school would be more interesting than fifth grade history at least.
By Desiree Minerva 5 years ago in Fiction
The Red Dirt
Fine-pointed charcoal sank into the earth once more and the satisfying grind of hardened wood on red dirt filled up the silence of morning. Too much clay, I thought for maybe the thousandth time. Or the ten thousandth. Besides, who bothered counting anything anymore? Rhythmic, the grinding rose again from the ruddy clay and I could almost make out the faint sound of flint corn falling into the fresh depression. What I wouldn’t give for a single bean and the ancient sight of its tendrils curling around the corn stock come late summer; but we buried the last of the seed the same season we buried her.
By Eric Chisler5 years ago in Fiction
Satin and Cybernetics
Satin gloves shimmered as she slid them up her arms; the final touch to her regency ensemble. After all, that was the era citizens of Port 9 lived in. Clara had been to other ports in the world, exterminating the threat that had been calling themselves the Truth Speakers. They had been disrupting the peace that had been created by the ports by claiming to know what lies outside the walls of the ports. As she rode in the carriage, she slid her glove off of her right arm and tapped on the inside of wrist, opening a small compartment that was installed in the robotic hand. She quietly spoke, “on my way to Penworth’s ball . I will verify the information I received and report back.”
By Makhenna Cullen5 years ago in Fiction
They Lied about Grandmother's Home
They lied about Grandmother’s home. In the distance the siren wails. Time for a break. I relax the controls and allow the claws of the Blaster to sink back to the ground as I run through the check in my mind. Helmet. Oxygen. Correction boots.
By Sarah Stankus5 years ago in Fiction
Oral History
My mother Susan told me that there was a time, less than a century ago, when food was purchased in stores with pieces of paper or tiny plastic cards. My mother Karen says Susan is full of it and that never really happened. Then Susan says Karen would remember her history lesson of what it was like before if she didn’t spend all her harvest on whiskey. That’s usually my cue to go out to the greenhouse and work on my plot. The vegetables never get drunk and argue.
By LUCINDA M GUNNIN5 years ago in Fiction
Light.
Kaiya willed her eyes to blink, but it were as though her mind had fully separated from her body. She couldn't believe her eyes. How could there be so much beauty among so much chaos, so much destruction? The beams of light seemed to shatter and reassemble, not in the same way as they were, but in a stunning calamity, both delicate and volatile. The rays pierced through the haze, brilliant vermilion and amber, muted by ash and soot and smoke. The brightness tore through the opaque veil of smoldering devastation, clawing away, desperate to penetrate. The light danced and darted with no semblance of a rhythm, as Kaiya’s eyes tried, to no avail, to catch the elusive glisten. Every time she seemed to match the tempo of the rays, the beat changed, the chords augmented and she was lost again.
By Diana Auer5 years ago in Fiction
Survivor Diaries
A small figure clung to the shadows, pausing to avoid the Collectors walking past. The figure was dressed in dark greys and black, the clothes tight fitting to her petite frame. On her back she carried a large backpack in the same color scheme, around her waist she wore a belt with a knife, flashlight, and a secondary belt with pockets filled with odds and ends. She relaxed into the shadows, her dark red hair draped around her cherub face half hidden by a mask. Her light blue eyes glinting in the disappearing light, she turned her face to the sky. Oh how she wished to see the stars again, but the pollution from the Unwanted Furnaces filled the sky like a thick miasma blocking all possible hope of seeing the brilliant balls of gas. She tensed as more footsteps came close to her hidden form in the shadows. She had to be careful letting her guard down with so many Collectors nearby, she couldn't risk getting caught. Everyone relied on her getting the much needed supplies, more so Sarah's life counted on her mission going well.
By Alyssa LeCuyer5 years ago in Fiction
