Sci Fi
The Unlatching
The crescent moon was reminiscent of a Persian scythe in shape, its illuminating light scathed the night's stars and the piercing moonlight could lead one to believe an owl had flown overhead. Lilith, the preponderant succubus's pale reflection riding the waves protruded by ripples of pitch black, and yet, intruded with near-infinite sands of clay underneath. Dread be the wars man bred and locked into prior to yesterday's baring age has finally chased the sun's sanity to the other side of this quaint realm giving the sky a chance to remember the beauty of what was, the oceans, prior to the late Earth and its belonging consequences. Should the seas rise as much as temper's of Zeus a well placed dam should be built to keep safe the town from the repercussions of evening's descent. For all that is divine will remain as long as divinity is not disrupted, shall this oath be gone against, may the mountains perish and their corresponding spirits return to the seas like the grains of sand, the motion's erosion.
By Klay Alan Duncan5 years ago in Fiction
Lost and Found
Sandra My reality doesn't seem real. It's been 5 years, 2 weeks, and 3 days since my entire world collapsed. It took me about a year to fully accept that it wasn't just my world that collapsed but the world; the entire globe, normal one second, total upheaval the next. Or at least that's how it felt.
By Midwest Mama5 years ago in Fiction
The Locket
She clasped it tightly as she slid down the chute. Despite being tarnished by the harsh environment, the silver heart-shaped locket was still a beautiful little thing. The picture inside had almost faded away, but she could still make out the shapes of two people wearing clothes of a forgotten era. “This is going to be worth lots, but I'm not sure I have the heart to hock it.” Amy chuckled at the accidental pun as she reached the bottom of the chute and made her way down the tunnel towards the exit. Amy was a salvager in the wasteland formerly known as Ohio. The lush forests, relaxing rivers, and exciting cities had become a sprawling wasteland of overgrown dumps, carcasses of cities, and forests full of creatures barely resembling what Mother Nature intended.
By Andrew Darovich5 years ago in Fiction
The Old Days
Nobody talks about how society fell. Not anymore. At first it was all anyone would or could talk about, pointing fingers and placing the blame. Blaming anyone and everyone in a vain attempt to put the world back on track, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault, not really. Our society was bound to break at some point. Still, we were all surprised when it finally happened.
By Sydney Fucito5 years ago in Fiction
The Damselfly Locket
Amanda peeked between the rails in the staircase, at the lounge where the rest of the students were gathered. Colors of red, white, and green, covered the packages. Sounds of laughter, sights of hugs and twinkling lights, could make almost anyone forget where they were. Amanda had vague memories of a tree and gifts. Family and friends gathered around, a big meal being prepared, and the warmth and happiness she felt.
By Anita L Worthey5 years ago in Fiction
The Great Depression
The panic that ensued mirrored that of the hysteria of Y2K; rioting and looting, apocalyptic utterances; the end of the world. Big and small businesses alike relished in the pandemonium that drew the forsaken to their store fronts, emptying their stock like “out of business” liquidation sales. Their jubilation quieted once the contagious virus of paranoia coughed up and spat upon the walls of their establishment. The infection spread. The chatter from the informed, over various mediums, were convinced the end of days were here. The diagnosis was delirium, and prophetic pharmacologists prescribed unhealthy doses of folklore and nihilist fiction as the remedy. The foreseen panic in scripture was created today by fear frozen sheep unable to see the strings animating their movements, decisions. It was true that the water levels had risen, depleting hundreds of square inch of land monthly, and it was true that natural disasters were becoming more common, shifting the traditional worldwide reaction to them from disbelief to disregard; but the horsemen of the apocalypse never came. The earth did not open up and swallow its inhabitants without warning. The great asteroid that made fossil of skeleton and dust of flesh, of our reptilian ancestors, did not return for a curtain call. Monday through Sunday continued as did January through December. The sun rose in the east, smiling, and set in the west, yawning. The predictions were not entirely wrong though, just misinterpreted in their translation. A global change occurred, derailing our affinity to function on auto pilot, with eyes closed, led like lemmings off a ledge. The people woke up and set fires to their property, ceremoniously sacrificing the past for present favours from Gods found within. Our perceptions had changed. Protests ceased as their functions became unnecessary. Influence and coercion were ineffective as truth was now widely accepted as being verified solely from the “mouth of the horse.” The financial elite no longer dictated the ebb and flow of commerce, religion and government, because all of earths dependant’s chose truths that were symbiotic with their own heart’s desires. Relief set in, and emotions teetered to a plateau as the fear began to diminish; but that was just the prologue. That was December 21, 2012.
By Mars Marley5 years ago in Fiction
The Pine Grove
As she walked down the desolate hallway her mind started to drift to a better time. A time when they were all together and the world was a different place. A time when her biggest concern was whose house she would be hanging out at. Her teenage years had now been replaced with scavenging for food, finding a safe place to sleep and hiding from the evil that now ran the streets. But, this was her few moments to forget it all. She sat in the corner, closed her eyes and she could almost hear her mother’s voice calling her. The lilac candle her mom would burn seemed to encircle her entire body and she smiled, for a brief moment she was home.
By Kimberly Dumais-Hutt5 years ago in Fiction
The next few months
Same as every other day Tom frantically waves his hand over the brewing coffee to prevent the smoke from giving away his position, granted it does nothing about the smell but after months waiting for the sky to fall one learns how to make compromises on what constitutes proper, necessary life preserving measures and what is just a hassle. All the other undesirables ask him to brew the coffee far away from the church since they don't trust Tom's risk assessment skills and are perfectly aware that he smokes a cigarette right afterwards. They don't resent him, nobody resents anybody anymore, people slowly started to let go of any moral imperative once the imminent doom was undeniable. “In 32 years I’ve never drank coffee without sugar, and now I don't even know if I would use it if I had it" reflected Tom as he lit up the second half of yesterday's cigarette and took that first hit. "damn that feels good" he thought as he waved his hand again this time over the cigarette smoke. Tom was convinced that today was it for him and regretted a little that he won't get to see the pretty lights, but he had to try and see her, ideally to see the big event by her side or just to say goodbye as a worst case scenario. Worst case scenario? who was he kidding there was no guarantee that Gaby was even alive, after all Faunatia is notoriously filled with crazy people who ride alligators for fun. Once his shrine to the vices was covered with dirt Tom fitted his backpack and started to make his way to the Church.
By Marcel Carrero5 years ago in Fiction
