Sci Fi
Defective
Jeanette never expected the end of the world to have such well manicured lawns, and yet, as she crept from the side of a minivan to hiding behind a white lattice fence, the hostility of the suburban façade felt just as intimidating as the destruction humanity had always assumed there'd be.
By Selina Leonard5 years ago in Fiction
No Picnic After Dark
I woke up and found myself lying face down on the ground. Lifting my head, I used my hand to wipe off the dirt stuck to my eye lids and looked around to see where I was and get my bearings. In a flash, I remembered warnings of a fallout from earth’s rejection of 10G communications systems predicting fatal devastation worldwide for months. As I gained my focus and strength, I stood up slowly and looked around in disbelief for what my eyes were seeing. Everything was charred black from radiation. There was ash, and soot and rubble everywhere. Tall buildings had sunken into the ground with only rooftops showing at ground level. What were once city streets looked like mountainous peaks and valleys of concrete and asphalt. I stood there, still, and barely breathing.
By Linda Aubert5 years ago in Fiction
Before the Void
“I don’t believe in equal freedoms. The strong eat the weak. Only the best must be selected,” the patient states as he gets injected in his left-side chest and up his right sinus. He lays naked on the table with his limbs outstretched. The body emits an odour that implies the patient has an inactive lifestyle, and only bathes an estimated every four days.
By T. S. Babiak5 years ago in Fiction
A Glitch in Society
I was relatively certain it was the morning for two reasons. First, there was the aches of my joints from sleeping in one position all night. Followed by the distinct bitter taste that mornings typically left in my mouth. It had to be morning, but my CORE visual display said otherwise. I blinked a few times in rapid succession, but the world that stretched out before me was nothing more than a black void. Immediately, I started to panic. The worst case scenario: being suffocated by darkness forever, became a clearer and clearer possibility as the seconds dragged on. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. “It was simply a minor bug or glitch in the system.” I reassured myself. As with all programs CORE was not immune to technical difficulties. I knew that first hand as one of their lead systems programmers. Suddenly, a light out of the dark, a pop up wrapped around my display that read: SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE. SERVERS WILL BE ONLINE SHORTLY. I breathed a sigh of relief, and fell back into the comforting embrace of my covers. I was grateful to get at least another half hour of sleep in before the day finished loading.
By Audrey Robey5 years ago in Fiction
Where Do the Deleted Go
Alan was mad! His car had gone too far! His head still hurt where he banged it on the car roof. He stormed into his apartment. He dropped his briefcase by the door as it closed and locked itself. He tossed his suit coat and tie at the living room sofa and quickly walked into the link room. He sat down on his computer link couch and laid back. The connection from reality to cyberspace was almost instantaneous. To Alan, the scene changed, and he was sitting behind his desk. In this virtual reality was his personnel computer console room. His computer-generated image or avatar spoke into the microphone attached to the headset he was wearing in the simulation.
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Fiction
UKIYO
“Life is good with less teeth,” Koro thought, as the taste of freeze-dried cherries settled into his naked body. In front of him, the stars shone in the cold lacquer sky. Lapping peacefully, the amniotic fluid sent pleasurable waves over his pale, hairless skin. His teeth, black like burnt bodies, worked lazily, mixing his saliva with the fruit, as if by squeezing out the moisture from his own body, he was imagining juice.
By Sebastian Yong-Ah Chang5 years ago in Fiction
