Sci Fi
Green Lake
The locket, which was heart-shaped and had once fitted snug as a pebble into Rannie’s hand, now arced through the air, the line of a silver chain trailing behind it like the slipstream of some fallen star. An inaudible splash, barely a ripple, then the same pale green plane of the lake, unchanged, unyielding. What had she expected?
By Micha Horgan5 years ago in Fiction
The Virus
Chapter One It's been three years since the virus. Three years since the fall of half of the population. Times are hard, it's not so much about living as it is surviving. Those who weren't infected have quarantined themselves in colonies, little communities bordered by a thick cement wall, only venturing out for supplies and taking extreme precautions such as hazmat suits and gas masks. Going outside the wall alone is forbidden. Taking off your mask when in the wastelands is forbidden. No exceptions.
By Jade McLeod5 years ago in Fiction
Waver
Swirly gray clouds moved inch by inch across the colorless sky, you could only really tell they moved at all if you were perfectly still, straining your eyes towards the heavens. It was a simple thing, but it was worth remembering that nature continues to move as if nothing had happened. There was flagrant defiance in the slow moving clouds, whispers of arrogance in the full grey sky that teased at rain. There would be no rain, but the sky wanted you to remember, in its own cruel way it wanted you to hope.
By Kavi Elwyn5 years ago in Fiction
From the Stars
There are times when I want to rip the locket from around my neck, and let it fall never to be seen again. The silver, heart-shaped pendant is a constant reminder of what I lost, and yet it is a comfort. When the pain becomes too much I grip the charm close to my heart, squeeze my eyes shut, and will the world to go back to the way it was. A year ago I was celebrating my college graduation, and subsequent engagement to the love of my life. I was happy-go-lucky, but that changed all too quickly.
By Maysen Matthews 5 years ago in Fiction
The Arrivals
They found the first one in the backseat of a yellow taxicab in New York city. The driver was interviewed by Ellen and Oprah – 15 minutes of fame as they replayed the viral video again and again. He leant back in their deep couches, his silk shirt open at the neck, black hair sprouting over the top like a 70’s porn star. He threw his arms around wildly as he performed for their cameras – feigned surprise at the baby appearing where a moment before there had been none. The audience laughed, lapping it up. Critics accused him of trickery – was it staged? A CGI effect, perhaps, or an accomplice off-screen? His interviews added nothing to the story – the simple fact was, he didn’t know. Nobody did.
By Angel Whelan5 years ago in Fiction
NothingGold.Exe
She didn't mean it. When Mommy said I wasn't real. I sniff, wiping tears from my eyes as I struggle in the small space to which she had confined me. I grip the gold locket which contained the picture of me and Mommy. In the photo, Mommy crouches beside me, her arm looped lovingly around my neck. I can remember the way the dock creaked beneath my flip-flops. The way the leaves had turned to gold on the other side of the sparkling lake.
By Brian del Rio5 years ago in Fiction
