Sunday – Short Story (Sci-Fi Dystopia)

Overcast skies. We can breathe again. We can see the sun again, even though it’s what has forced us underground in the first place. The kids can play outside again, at least in the shade of the crumbling New York buildings. The city is a comfortable 100 degrees, enough to sit in the shade for a few minutes. My name is Steven and I’m one of the lucky ones. The unlucky ones are lying in the black pavement, their bones perfectly white. But even the sun can’t kill us all Read More

Ocean Songs – Short Story

“Pirates.” Cari said out loud, not having heard her voice in so long. It sounded rough and dry but it was better than the constant sound of water hitting the cargo container and now the mysterious sound that started a few days ago and wouldn’t stop. “Or a naval ship.” She said, giving a breath of oxygen to sugar snap peas growing on the container wall, attached by wire.

The doppler sonar device wasn’t picking anything up but it never did with its minimal radius. Sometimes she’d be drifting for miles and see ship debris, huge chunks of them usually, and the radar never picked them up. She could see them coming just by standing on top of the storage container before the sonar would even ping. The random debris would clink against her cargo container vessel and float around it Read More

A Quest of Pestilence – Short Story

“Acid rain, the covonic plague, the exodus of wildlife, the goblin hordes; there must be a common cause.” The apprentice held out his hand and cast an illumination spell for Rangvald, probing the darkness of the cavern for dangers.

“If that were true, my brother, the Magistrate wouldn’t send us on these missions. The Lord and Lady of Umbra appointed him for his efficient nature. The evilness that darkens the land is strictly misfortune. Read More