extraterrestrial
Speculation, theory, UFOs and Aliens. Are we alone in this universe or is there life outside Earth?
Beyond Green Moon Cafe
Beyond Green Moon Cafe by Karen Leech The distant golden sun was moving rapidly across the sky as the tiny blue earth planet spun on its tilted axis. Glistening silver stars painted speckles on the black sky on one side of the earth, while a sprawling canvas of iridescent blue stretched out towards each horizon on the other.
By Karen Leech5 years ago in Futurism
The Golden Rule
Note: Voxa is pronouced liek Va-Sha Voxa turn 24 today. It was her birthday but no one knew. She was all alone in the world. Her mother passed. Her friends, turned out not to be friends at all. She was all alone in the world and doing better than ever. Still it was her birthday and the pit in her stomach was growing by the moment. She decided to go for a walk. The air was putrid, a dusky haze hung over the sky. Her face mask smelled like a musky bookstore “Guess it’s time for a wash.”
By Minda Violetly5 years ago in Futurism
Little Black Book Challenge
The sun hung low in the sky, slowly descending, casting gold and emerald mists across the desert dunes that were as plentiful as the yellow corn stalks of Iowa during harvest time, that sprawled across the land in an eery mythic glow. One of the spaceships delicately descended, right on time, just before the maddening hours of twilight and dusk.
By Sophia Laurel Pack5 years ago in Futurism
Red
Iggy Petri was on her way to the Grocery Center when the oxygen unit failed. Her thoughts were interrupted by a tiny chime, inaudible yet audible because of her E-Musk Brain Implant (or EBI), followed by a voice in her head that wasn’t her own: “Attention Tyrrhena Terra citizen—please return to the Bunker, an anomaly has halted surface atmosphere regulation…” the message repeated until the neurons in Iggy’s brain fired her comprehension.
By Kelsey Gunter5 years ago in Futurism
Between space
All he could see, all he could think and do was run. He wasn't sure how many were chasing him or where they were chasing him from, in fact there wasn't much he did know. That's what the man didn't understand, why did they want him and what would they do if he ever fell into their twisted hands? He forced himself to slam the oncoming scenes of his over active imagination to the background of his mind, allowing them to sizzle out like the lives of so many before him. Without hesitation he slid under a mound of dirt as he heard two of them approaching from the same direction he was running, he knew he had to move quickly and this seemed too perfect. He lay in wait for them to pass so he could retreat back to one of the shacks and just cry until he woke only to play the same sick game tomorrow. He had always hidden here, which confused him because they had never found him, he looked again at the underneath of the mound, silently thanking his inanimate guardian. He pressed his face against the familiar and almost friendly mixture of mud and gravel, the only seemingly constant thing in the compound. Gripping the little black notebook in his jacket, the man prayed that it made it back to people who need if, while it could still help. The thought brought his mind back to the chase, he heard dragging and hissing, then he thought he saw torch light. This was new and confused him intensely, light was not permitted in the hunt. It was the only merciful rule, and the only advantage the man had on his followers. Being almost blind they had no reason for light anyway but his oppressors thought that it made the runners feel more confident, more risky. Suddenly he felt a burning behind his sternum, a cough rising to his throat. He clamped his mouth and nose shut in disbelief, his brain attempting to starve his body for betraying him to his followers. He started to feel light, in his brain's attempt to save him it was torturing itself. A noble proposition in such a desperate situation. No Oxygen meant he would not survive much longer in the hunt, he had to breath, even at risk of coughing, he needed the air.
By Ben Mandeville5 years ago in Futurism
3:33 AM
12:33 PM This was getting old. Her arms felt like gelatin. Her legs were weights. The room was far too bright, and her back ached like crazy. Maybe it was worth it to stay in bed an hour more. This was going to be the rest of her life, it seemed. Wake up, feel like shit, eventually die. Hopefully death came soon.
By Kathryn Milewski5 years ago in Futurism
Believer
I wore an alien shirt to my grandma's funeral; it depicted a UFO with a small green alien inside. My mom said it was disrespectful to grandma Gwyn. She tried convincing me to cover it up with her cardigan. That day, friends and family looked me up and down as if I was a being of unknown origin. If they knew about the bond I shared with grandma maybe it wouldn’t have bothered anyone; I know she would have understood the gesture. Our connection didn’t form right away; as a matter of fact, there were times when I was scared of her and feared going to her house.
By Florencia Gianinetto5 years ago in Futurism
The Financial Misadventures of MA77 and Z4V1
Z4V1 did not volunteer to be on the S.S. Hart. His brother had practically dragged him by one pointed ear onto the ship and strapped him into the squeaky blue seats headed straight for Earth. Z4V1 tried to ignore MA77’s bouncing knee as he chattered excitedly on the prospect of finding “something big” this time. Z4V1 had no idea what “something big” entailed, but he was sure he would rather be home with FRE-38, petting her floppy ears and fluffy jowls.
By Kelly Patel5 years ago in Futurism
