Sci Fi
The Robot Hears a Siren
Scanning… This area was once a city. Now there is only hardened dirt and trash. Metal plate found, 50 yards ahead through the rubble and decay. T-71 also detected a few others in the vicinity that were scavenging parts and repairing broken down robots. It is getting harder to recover those who did not make it out of the acid rain. Often there is nothing left to do but recycle their parts. There is also starting to be less and less salvageable materials in the left-over human trash.
By Moonlit Writes5 years ago in Fiction
Halves of A Whole
The maroon sky churned and rolled like a thick bowl of borscht fresh from the pot. I looked down to see Liza entranced by the colour tones and noticed how beautifully it reflected in her pale blue eyes. She looked so much like her father. It was at times painful to see the likeness of that beautiful blue in the sea of red.
By Kegan Lorne-Walter5 years ago in Fiction
Fireworks
Bugg was almost done with his last drawing. His given name was John but his mom always called him her “Bugg”. He liked that better than John anyway. He had drawn a blue circle for the face. A red line for the mouth. He drew two large squares for teeth. He had used his old crayons. He had to use them because all the markers had dried up. They would only make the faintest mark on the page. No good for drawing. His little tongue was slightly sticking out of his mouth as he drew a small rounded U for the nose. For his Dad’s glasses it was two black circles with black lines connecting the larger blue circle. Then one small black hump in the middle of the two black circles. He put two black dots in the middle of each black circle. He tilted his head slightly and looked at the photo. He put down the black crayon and picked up the blue again. He drew over the small u shape for the nose again. He set that crayon down and looked at the ones that were still outside the box. He looked them over carefully. Then he looked back into the box. He selected the green crayon. The tip of the crayon was worn down to a nub just past the wrapper. He clenched his hand around it making a fist. He then put it against the paper and ran the crayon up and down vigorously making spiky green hair. He put the crayon down and looked at the drawing. He nodded once and turned the drawing over. He reached to his right and found a roll of scotch tape hidden under more drawing paper. He pulled a small strip and tore it off. He then folded it onto itself and placed it on the middle of the paper. He did it two more times, putting the folded pieces of tape beside each other. He stood up and turned the paper back around. He looked over it and again nodded once.
By James Stratton5 years ago in Fiction
See You There
The old man had been out here in the desert since before most of the world had become a desert. He’d been out here in the abandoned airbase-turned-junkyard since before everything had become an abandoned something-turned-junkyard. He sipped on his soda, then, smiling, laughing to himself, set it back down, picked up his socket wrench and returned to attaching the gimbal to the top of the thrust chamber.
By Alexander Greco5 years ago in Fiction
Injustice
Shari gazed blankly as the first rays of sunlight sliced through darkness, lighting a glow like embers in her deep brown eyes. She rested casually in a crevice where a 100-year-old cedar tree and the skeleton of a rusting tower had met. The tree was winning, slowly and contemplatively swallowing the metal structure whole. From her vantage point high in the air she scanned the patterns of chaotic scars Trethlem had dug through the crumbling city sprawled out before her. Today was the day.
By Clare Watson5 years ago in Fiction
DAY 2
DAY TWO: Innocence Lost Q was raised and trained by survivalist parents, so the past year spent underground was utilized to practice the survival skills she had been taught during her short life. She wasn't sure which of the many possible scenarios had caused them to put their plan into action but she knew it was the day following the day she turned 9 years old. Her memory of that night still haunted her in her sleep, it was nothing like the drills they had practiced together as a family. The days ran into each other, there was only the mundane routine to keep to a schedule. The first six months were spent underground together trying to keep supplies lasting and senses sharp.
By Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian5 years ago in Fiction
A Minor Inconvenience
Another hot one. Sweat beads off of my forehead as I skip over the curb and head downhill towards the next block. Click-clack. My sandals snapping against the sizzling pavement. My yellow checkered dress tied at the waist, flowing in the slight breeze. Mask secured, air-locked and snug; Just the way they taught us.
By Holly Reid5 years ago in Fiction
Locket of Love
“Mary,” I stride this road that so many have before. So many walk and fall and walk again. Most walk and fall. Never getting back up seems the easier path. It’s always easier to simply lie down and give up. Watch the world spin until you, like most of the world, decays.
By A.T. Haessly5 years ago in Fiction
