Sci Fi
Echoes of Eternity
Chaos reigns. Anarchy rages. A cracked echo of what the world used to be. If you manage to survive the rubble and savagery, you only have so long until the Delegates find you. An overpowering, totalitarian force cleansing its way through any remains of sanity. Any impurity or imperfection is eviscerated from the remains of Earth’s feeble surface. The few survivors are the strongest and the most valuable. Fossil fuels were always temporary, but we were blinded by money and greed. Society was on its knees and the Vatican took over. The Delegates enforce the word of the divine tyrant, purifying the people of earth through fatal indoctrination. The damage was irreparable. Some try to save the remnants, but they’re barely worth saving anymore.
By Fraser Anderson5 years ago in Fiction
Red Sand
I can’t remember much before that day. Many times, I've sat in the darkness, trying. Always, the images rush before my eyes like a speeding train. The lights of the carriage flicker through the scratched-plastic windows, revealing unfamiliar faces that I almost recognise the feeling of. They faces stare back, and I feel like I might remember. Then the lights go out and I am left alone coated in the silent, sweaty darkness.
By Julian Okamoto5 years ago in Fiction
FINDING GAGA
2061/04/21 DIARY, a small lifetime passed tonight with me staring at your solar-powered, superannuated screen, not believing what I’d typed. If only you weren’t an iPad machine but some Deux Ex Machina with Ctrl+Z abilities beyond the digital to undo the reality of these words:
By Lola Marche5 years ago in Fiction
Excerpts From a Journal; Circa 2246
Summer, 2246, 13th Entry We ran into a town today. From here, it looks like more of the same. It’s likely that they’ve been…... Johnny volunteered to go, I think I’m going to …... I can’t stomach the sight of the bones, picked clean of their flesh, but I need to find Sarah a gift. It has to be close to her birthday. We’re going to camp here for the night, and head into town when…...
By Brandon Boyer5 years ago in Fiction
The Image of What Used to Be
At this time of night, the sewers were crawling with scavengers. They picked through garbage and muck, thrusting their hands into the frothy water that trickled through the putrid caverns. Bit was among them, sifting through the trash, side by side with other Scants who were eager to find spare parts.
By Miranda Rasband5 years ago in Fiction
Aphrodite Unrequited
I took Jonathan completely by surprise just when his life was about to change forever. I attribute it to the embers in the breeze and perfect sunset at the party where he laid eyes on me. That evening we talked until the morning without even holding hands. Later, he thought that what drew us together was something immutable and ephemeral, more than the sum of my parts. I guess we mingled enough that night to trade approaches. The poet sought environmental explanations, while the engineer looked no further than his heart. Humans usually mate in pairs, and often trade souls a little along the way. We call it ‘being in love.’
By Nathan Hall5 years ago in Fiction
Remember the Before Time
It was raining again. The sound of the rain drops pounding against the tin roof were by far the loudest noise I have heard in a long time. It was quiet outside. But frankly it was always quiet these days, especially in the E districts. No one hardly went outside unless it was for essential needs only. And when people did go outside, they tend to carpool. Not to help save the planet or anything, but for protection. There was safety in numbers. The E districts was nicknamed the quiet place. You never heard children playing outside, you never heard music coming from peoples’ homes or car stereos. It was just the sound of rain and an occasional car driving by. Silence meant safety. When it was not quiet then we knew there was trouble. I sat by the window and listened to the rain, I reminisced on what life was like in the before time. Before the riots, before the jurisdiction of marshal law took effect. I sat there in the attic clutching onto the heart shaped locket with their photo. Oh how I missed the before time. How I missed the laughter of my children and hearing their little footsteps running through the house.
By Whitney Monyo5 years ago in Fiction
Memories of the Encounter
Dangling from his wrist, the heart shaped locket was the last remaining artifact he had of his daughters. Both a memento and a trophy, the locket held his only physical memory of the former world; a life before they came. Although his daughter was gone, Eddie was now the guardian of his granddaughter, Ellie. Born only 8 months before the encounters, Ellie has no memories of her mother or the old life, just stories Grandpa Eddie tells.
By Kevin Dean5 years ago in Fiction
