Stuart Orr
Bio
Winner of the Melodic Milestones Challenge, Stuart writes speculative fiction with a lyrical bent.
His "Piper at the Gates", a YA novel about music, memory, and the power of song to set us free, is available here: https://amzn.asia/d/b0kZtyp
Stories (8)
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Lucy and Her Mother War
2. LUCY AND HER MOTHER WAR Lucy opened her eyes and held her breath. In the space between dream and wakefulness something lurked, like a crouching tiger, or a circling shark. She flexed her eyelids wide, willing her retinas to open so she could see. There, in the corner, next to her door, a coiled body breathed.
By Stuart Orr7 months ago in Futurism
Jack in a Box
1. JACK IN A BOX The airlock door was cold to Jack’s touch, yet it hummed with a harmony of machines, footsteps, and voices. This trembling at his fingertips would be the last sensation he would ever feel of life inside The Hamelin. No more whisper of recycled air. No more whoop and roar of emergency drills. No more fleeting moments of laughter caught between his parents’ shifts.
By Stuart Orr7 months ago in Futurism
The Worrying Bone
He stares into the face of the place where all the best things come from and feels ashamed. Little Pink fusses over his ears with a ribbon. Her sweet, heavy breath sticks in his eyes, worse than the paint and powder she’s rubbed into his snout. Ziggy shuffles politely on the linoleum. His clipped nails make little clicks. He’s learnt from small hot screams and wide cold slaps from above not to show any strength or distemper.
By Stuart Orr2 years ago in Futurism
The Devil's Playground. Finalist in 2023 Vocal Writing Awards - Science Fiction. Top Story - October 2023.
This machine is the perfect confessor. It need not forgive for it cannot be wronged. It does not confuse its thoughts with God’s. From behind this thickly folded curtain, ceremonial red, the absolution it offers is real, because its intention is pure: Listen. Understand. Counsel.
By Stuart Orr2 years ago in Futurism
Song of a Distant Star
Hubble rolls in Earth’s deep shadow. Its gossamer tiles cool taut. As one city after another sets up its canopy of light, the high sentinel reaps its wings’ brief harvest of sun: a night half an hour long, no sleep, all dreamlike recollection of light millennia old, and silence.
By Stuart Orr3 years ago in Beat
Voodoo Child. First Place in Melodic Milestone Playlist Challenge. Top Story - June 2023.
Right now it’s dark. All the instruments are still. The musicians are in bed or crashed out on the floor. I’m in the yard, under the sycamore. In the firelight it seems to flit and heave, waving its arms at the stars like it’s calling down guidance.
By Stuart Orr3 years ago in Beat
