Sci Fi
The Good of the Many
2021.07.21, Española, NM The sun slips reluctantly behind the only cloud in the sky like I’d put on a dress. Also like me, it’s never on for long. The wind steals the sun’s filmy shift, letting hot, naked rays toast my dusty skin. The breeze chills my sweaty armpits and raises goosebumps on my back when I doff my backpack. A lizard skitters, then watches me sit with the other members of patrol team Tango. I’ve shared a bed with each, some many times. Nobody stays long-term because nobody thinks long-term. Besides, Jade, the team leader, wouldn’t tolerate it, even if I did.
By Del Herring5 years ago in Fiction
EONE
Late again, I can’t believe that I’m running out of time! Rebekah looked at her smart phone and peered icily at the time. It was a smothering kind of heat, the kind that you could coat yourself in, and keep yourself warm through winter. Rebekah's phone had an alert flashing that the heat was going to be a code for a state of emergency. Lately, fires have been starting everywhere because of the drought and the terrible heat index. The whole west coast was gone. It was like seeing a recent sunburn and instead of flesh flaking off after healing it was pieces of the United States disintegrating into the ocean. What is happening to this planet, cried Rebekah!? Where are we going to live? Soon there will be no food left. I suppose it didn’t matter that she would be late for work, it’s better than not showing up because of being dead. She sometimes had a morbid sense of reality and the fact that she was an ecologist didn’t help matters much, she knew how this would all end. It’s the price of having a well-functioning curious brain.
By Stacy Parks5 years ago in Fiction
Port 9
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 three other ports in the world, exterminating the threat that had been calling themselves the Truth Speakers. They have been disrupting the peace and tranquility that had been created by the ports by claiming to know what really lies outside the walls of the ports.
By Makhenna Cullen5 years ago in Fiction
A New Earth!
The day started out like any other! It was 6 a.m., and I was fixing my morning cup of coffee and watching the sunrise over the Detroit River. The forecast for the day predicted 85 degrees, a perfect day for a jog along the Riverfront. Except no weather channel could forecast the sudden destruction that was soon to come and the aftermath that relatively few live to describe.
By Shelley Whigham5 years ago in Fiction
Expired
I wake up in a puddle of drool and a cloud of fuzziness. I feel like I am moving in slow motion and as my hearing focuses, I hear my mother pleading me from the bottom step to get ready for school before I am late. My eyes shift to my alarm clock that reads 6:45. Shit. 10 minutes to get ready. I jump out of bed, grab some underwear and jeans out of my dresser and fumble to get them on. I snag my boyfriend’s gray track sweatshirt off my door handle and linger a second to take in his scent that is still on it. I practically leap into the bathroom that is right across from my room and I freeze. I hear my younger sister blasting the latest pop sludge from her room. I must still be dreaming. I take in my surroundings and examine my face closer in the mirror. I am not dreaming. On my forehead in type-writer font appears to be a brand of some sort. It reads EXP. 4.25.1983. I struggle to configure what this might mean and realize that April 25th, 1983 is today’s date. My heart starts pounding hard and slow, I can feel it in my throat. I run downstairs to show my mom who is finishing up her mug of earl gray at the kitchen table. She looks up.
By Anilynn Cadell5 years ago in Fiction
Collision/Impact
I woke up gasping for air. Like I was drowning, and sinking. My eyes adjusting, taking in my surroundings, I knew I had to calm myself down. Focus, I told myself. I could hear alarms going off and make out a transparent screen on the glass in front of me. There was a crack running through it causing the image to flicker. It stated that I had been in a collision and power was at eighteen percent. I looked around as I pulled at the seatbelt and felt the release button in the middle. I looked to the center of my chest and popped it with my palm as I started to see sparks and smoke. Before I began to panic, I zoned in on the latch release and pulled. The top popped open and I jumped out, crawling away in case it exploded.
By Latoya Brand5 years ago in Fiction
Macy
The heart-shaped locket shattered against the concrete below. As it burst open, each half scraped over the acidic gravel in opposite directions. The ground was now toxic from nearly one week’s worth of Sour Rain and chasing them quickly was the only way to ensure they didn’t melt. My gloves sizzled as I clutched each one in a different hand. Two halves, two photos. Hers face up and mine face down. Even through the gooey thermal smog, the sun’s warm reflection twinkled across her kind, calm eyes. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and tilted my face to the sky. Exhaling, I promised with a whisper.
By Matt Christensen5 years ago in Fiction
The Prisoner
A man stared from the window of a bus; his stoic features undeterred by the shifting landscape around him. The towering metropolis he had once called home faded into insignificance in the background, its behemoth structures casting shadows beyond the horizon. These black streaks embedded upon the arid landscape would form the final memory of the place he grew up, yet the man seemed unfazed by the thought.
By Sam Horriben5 years ago in Fiction
Drink the Rain
Some things heat the fans of our hearts, like dark hair under moonlight, other’s turn warmth to cool stone. That was an old saying, something my grandmother’s grandmother would repeat under her breath as she tended to her garden. Whispering to the dirt in case something was listening.
By Lauren Millar5 years ago in Fiction
The Great Unknown
The warmth of the sun washed over her shoulders as it broke through the scattered clouds. It embraced her for a few seconds longer than anticipated, as if it knew she needed its energy to carry on. Yellow tendrils forced a shadow out of her that loomed over the hill, the vision of a celestial being reborn. Atlas blinked at the sprawl of woods in front of her as she shifted in her boots, the sword attached to her hip acting as a makeshift leg brace. Whenever this was over, she promised herself she would become reacquainted with the star, bask in it like she used to do so long ago.
By Katorah Thomas5 years ago in Fiction
Todestraum
Todestraum By Michael Keenan [email protected] "You know I wouldn't have dragged you downtown unless it was something big," Bratton mumbled. His bloodshot eyes wandered to the motes drifting in the light falling from the filthy window overlooking a once glorious city.
By Michael Keenan5 years ago in Fiction
