Sci Fi
Avion Symphony, Chapter Two
The explosion scorched Villanelle’s fair hair out of existence, shredding her school uniform and knickers then blowing to fragments the flesh beneath. Smoke cleared to reveal a robot which 4-H-N this time did know. It would indeed have been difficult for her to forget, but as it had also tried to annihilate Chester that probably went double for him. Good thing he was here, or 4-H-N would never have been able to picture the look on her own face.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Avion Symphony, Chapter Six
It was an August night that resonated magic. If they didn’t make them like that anymore, at least 4-H-N remembered them. For her they were bound up with friends and fun, evenings at the takeaway when you could eat as much as you pleased, and of course, songs playing on the video-walls such as this very one. Villanelle was in her human guise, and Chester was still a boy. Each held in both hands one end of the map, as side-by-side they studied it together.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Avion Symphony, Chapter One
It wasn’t the first time 4-H-N had paid a call on Kitty. In fact, it was getting to be a habit. For this, 4-H-N earnestly believed her nightie was responsible. The short pink one with the shoulder-straps, in which no girl could reasonably expect her knickers or armpits to stay secret long, and which for all these reasons closely resembled 4-H-N’s old Avion Girls Task Force costume. That was clearly triggering all the right psychological cues, because when 4-H-N wore it her weary head barely touched the pillow before she was there. Back in Kitty’s small college bedroom with its book-lined shelves and a bunk to save on floorspace, plus a wash-basin and mirror tucked away in one corner, the window open on a night-time campus of Spanish colonial architecture and a darkened strip of Californian beach.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Lake House Abby
Greetings My Dear Frankie: Please excuse me if I am taking a liberty by calling you Frankie. In my dimension, I am called Frankie by those with whom I have friendly relations, and I do hope we can be friends despite what I am about to detail to you.
By Haleigh Overseth4 years ago in Fiction
Night on a Bare Conurbation, Chapter Three
The Interplanetary Broadcasting Service was promptly on the scene. Roving reporter Blonghé Bliggs impressed upon everyone the vital importance of getting this story out there, and rushed Mini-Flash Meteor through minimal make-up while smoothly allaying any concerns that might have been raised as to the condition of her clothes. Blonghé Bliggs knew ratings when he saw them, and that was as good a word as any for what he glimpsed through that gaping tunic-rent. He himself may have been a bright blue orb which supported itself on several stringy feelers, but he didn’t get where he was today by not paying heed to the peculiar tastes of bipedal vertebrates.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Night on a Bare Conurbation, Chapter One
He was back. Reporters and earnest helpful Mini-Flashes ushering traumatised Grindoes from the ruinous subterranean restaurant heard wail after gibber after lament on the steely sound of shears, and sniggers that were like snips. Though their assailant had struck unseen, intelligent life across the quadrant wasn’t in the dark.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
The Family Connection
Mama always says that nothing is more important than family, not just for protection but for connection. We all need each other and learn from each other. We share in each other’s pain and happiness. And, when we’re threatened, we curl together like the fingers in a fist to smash our enemies and drive them from our home. Without family, what are we? We might as well be a pack of singletons, living alone inside our heads.
By Benjamin Sargent4 years ago in Fiction
