literature
Science fiction's most popular literary writers from Isaac Asimov to Stephen King and Frank Herbert, and the rising stars of today.
Counterfeit Feast
Hunger burned in my belly. Most of the time it was a dull ache that I could distract myself from, but there were moments when it turned into a pain I couldn’t ignore. This was one of those times. I went over to the cupboard and looked for something to take the bite off the pain in my stomach. There wasn’t much to be found. There were a few small bags of chips and a couple of half-eaten candy bars. I took one out and broke a piece off. Not exactly what you’d call a healthy meal, but it would do. I sat down at my old creaky table – the only one I’d ever known. I didn’t actually think it was that bad because I didn’t remember experiencing anything else. Sure, it was falling apart and covered in stains from all kinds of drink spills, but it did the job. There were some nicer looking ones in the magazine that I often flipped through, but those weren’t real. I had never seen someone actually own one of those. The pictures in the magazine were pretend people with pretend lives. My life was the only one I’d ever lived and it did not involve fancy tables and especially not the steaming food that I saw in those pictures.
By Cecilia Penner5 years ago in Futurism
The Archaeological Discoveries of Sara and Anne
There was someone else out there. There had never been anyone else out there, not in the weeks and weeks that Anne had spent sneaking out to the Old City. That was why she did it. Everyone else stayed in New Chicago, building things and growing things and repairing things and generally being too loud and bright and busy for Anne to get a moments peace.
By Typethreewriter5 years ago in Futurism
The Hoot of an Owl
“Everything you build will crumble, and everything you cherish will be ripped from your clutches at the hoot of an owl.” Those were her last words, the final offering of a fallen queen before the broadsword swung and the transition of power was complete. To say that it shook the prince - now king - is a grave understatement. Imagine him standing there, armored in haughty superiority and adorned in shining triumph after a six-summer campaign - and the final act is blemished by the venom of a headless snake.
By Stephanie Nielsen5 years ago in Futurism
There is a Forest on The Moon
“There is a constant humming in the ethereal void above. It lays its trail from the steps of its silent orchestra and latches onto dust particles hurling through the cosmos. It plays its tune to its starry audience with all their glitz and glamour and Gods of the solar systems attend and applaud. There is a constant humming in the ethereal void above. I’ve never heard it but I've felt it. It hums through me and it hums through others too and for those of us who feel the humming, we are just chords being executed by the ultimate conductors, we are strings being plucked by the musicians of time. Have you ever felt it, Doctor?”
By Aryan Ali-murad5 years ago in Futurism
Winds of Change
I was only seven when my mother smuggled me into the Authorized Safe Zone. Normally, someone like me would never end up with a roof and a bed on this side of the divide. Let’s be honest, I wouldn’t have stood a chance of seeing my eighth birthday if my parents hadn’t sacrificed themselves. They knew their hope was lost, but they saw a glimmer of it in my young eyes. Now it takes absolutely everything in me to remember what hope feels like. Most of the time, everything I have still isn’t enough.
By Chris Agee5 years ago in Futurism
It's Five O'Clock Somewhere
“Give me another,” I called to the bartender, raising my empty glass and pointing to it. At her nod, I dropped my arms back to the bar top with a sigh. The golden cuffs around my wrists clanked delicately against the wood of the bar. I remember thinking how beautiful they were, back when this all began, but no longer. The symbol of my people’s indentured servitude could never be beautiful to me, not when I was forced to do such terrible things.
By Kit MacPherson5 years ago in Futurism
Octopolis
CHAPTER 1, Once upon a Summer 2018. I had been driving all day and needed a break and a tiddle so I headed towards Foxley Woods, Norfolk. Driving through the lane signposted Nowhere Lane, Norfolk, England, I parked the car by a field and began walking a few hundred metres and arrived at a thicket.
By Tiffany Brown, Tiffany Campbell Brown, Tiffanarty5 years ago in Futurism
