science fiction
The bridge between imagination and technological advancement, where the dreamer’s vision predicts change, and foreshadows a futuristic reality. Science fiction has the ability to become “science reality”.
Erratum
Chapter Zero Annum 31,121. The room is dark. From the corner comes a piercing hole of light, a gust of wind and a rolling motion. XIIL is born this day, and the deeds fated that she should be born as a girl. She is hurried by the birth-helper onto her mother, who succumbs to her in relief. This day is passed, and she is much older now. She can see her mother, the creasing in the corner of her eyes, her warm hands embracing her. She is born amongst the wood, in a canopy built of bark, and she can smell the mahogany planks in her mind. When she sleeps, she comes back here and knows where she is from the smell... it guides her here in her dreams. She moved from the canopies and warm smells, into the swarm of the communes. Men and women grouped together like woodlice, they recoiled and uncoiled from waking and dreams. The central communes were known to be populated and suffered a range of problems. This is how the world worked for many millennia. There were civil wars and uprisings, and rebellions and usurpers, prostitutes and blacksmiths and highwaymen who were hung in the streets. Pigs and cows that came and birthed and fed a hundred people and their lives were gone in the blink of an eye. The streets bustled and people shoved and fights arose, territories were taken and overthrown, slaves flayed in the streets and slave masters bargaining their property to buyers.
By Samantha Noone5 years ago in Futurism
Book of Life
Book Of Life PART ONE Who the Hell are Ruben and Sonja? When you think of reasons to follow through with something and just going for it I am not one of those type of people. I am always one to be on the safe side. I am always one to make sure I don't choose the wrong pathway in any part of my life. So… When I woke up in the middle of a motel room in Tuscan, Arizona, I was alone with three empty bottles of Southern Comfort and wearing nothing but a tablecloth and cowboy boots, I knew I should have just stayed the hell home and not head out for an open mic night the night before. I lied on the floor staring up and this retro celling fan with three working blades and realized how the hell did I end up here in my life.
By Glenn Howard5 years ago in Futurism
The Adam Project
When I woke up, I knew the world had ended. BUNI (Biointegrated Unified Nanite Interface) looked at me with his wide marble eyes. He was in the form of a former toy of mine, one my parents had built for me, a lopsided stuffed rabbit doll with its tongue lolling from its mouth. He was bigger than I remember and spoke strangely. One of the perks of having nanotech engineers as parents is you get cool toys like stuffed bunny rabbits that talk. "Subject Adam. Status: Active. Good morning, Adam. How was your sleep?"
By G. Dean Manuel5 years ago in Futurism
Catgirl
"Catgirl, do a TikTok dance," Joshua says to the thing standing in front of us. It seems to perk up at the command. With a happy-sounding "Nya!" it curls its hands in imitation of cat paws. It sticks its tongue out, licks at the air, then shakes its hips to music that isn't actually there.
By Samira Daukoru5 years ago in Futurism
One of a Kind
Right foot forward, then left. As went the endless march of Henry Salinger, the last man on earth. He was reluctant to accept that he was the last, as would any sane person. It was hard to believe that out of seven billion he was the only one left alive. Yet there he was. Right foot forward, then left. As went the endless march.
By C.E. Tidswell5 years ago in Futurism
A Dream Fulfilled
This is a story of rags to riches. A story of mystery and fortune. Carl a young African American college student grew up in a very crowded house, having 9 siblings and all. He remembered before college dorming, he would share a bed with three others. Carl was on a life mission of becoming a millionaire and never living the way he did again. He achieved a lot in high school which got him scholarship to college but he still had to pay a fee for living at the college. Carl worked two jobs to maintain this fee and himself, as he had no help from his family. His mom had passed away when he was younger and he and his siblings were split up and put in different foster homes. But Carl always kept a picture of them all with their mother. Every time he looked at the picture it gave him strength to be more determined and accomplish many goals he set. But his greatest goal of becoming a millionaire was yet to come but he held his chest out always and looked up to the sky and always said , “I’m going to make it Mama,” .
By Alfred Cosme5 years ago in Futurism
Wilted
A sun soaked afternoon found a man lying in bed beside his wife. His body laid in purgatory, exhausted and unable to ascend to a world above the bed sheets. As his tired gaze fixed on a bookcase he grew saddened at the sight of all the books he had bought but never read. Lost in bibles of thought he held his wife’s hand tightly as if he was afraid of her sinking into the decade old mattress. His wife laid her head on his tense chest, and in a contrasting state of comfort, her body rested like oil paint on canvas. While the man took to bed to recharge himself for the next wave of chores his wife took to bed to meditate on the blessings of a warm fall day. She looked outside the window and although restrained by bones and concrete the light palpitations of her heartbeat competed with the sun to play a symphony with the chirpings birds and swaying trees. Time passed to reveal a gap in the clouds and the man caught a glimpse of the shadows casted by the sun. As if practice and looking in different directions, they both exclaimed in unison “The trees are very beautiful today”.
By Bennie Trang5 years ago in Futurism
When the Rocks Turned to Sand
Indra [March 2027]
By Annabelle Roux 5 years ago in Futurism
The Pulse
The Pulse, as it came to be known, took not only my family but also my memories of them. To speak their names is too painful. Even now, I refer to them as my wife and children, reducing them to mere nouns in the inner limits of my psyche. This trick makes the pain easier to suppress. I will not share the details of how they perished. I see no gain in others reliving my pain and anguish. What I will offer is a glimpse into the effects of such heartache. I am alone. Eaten alive by my disbelief (How could this happen?), my guilt (How could I let this happen?) and then the rage, the depression, and the helplessness. That is what I went through—what I am going through. My inability to save my family created in me an unquenchable wanderlust. I have become a post-apocalyptic man-shark, spending my nights traveling from place to place, never stopping, driven to survive. If I die, their memory dies with me. I cannot—will not—let them die a second death!
By Russell C. Goeins III5 years ago in Futurism
Somewhere Else
Miles and miles, from horizon to horizon, there is nothing to be seen but sand and sky. Right under me there is a hole filled with a bunch of cash inside. I didn’t bother to count but it was a lot. I don’t like holes. The last time I saw a hole I ended up here. And now I don’t know where I am. Somehow I landed here but i don’t remember how. Which way did I come from? The more I think about it, the more it hurts.
By Ruchit Negotia5 years ago in Futurism
