Tag Archive for: microfiction

The Rich, The Poor And When Earth’s Time Is Up

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by Aditya Deshmukh

 

An ashamed sun drags itself up the smoky horizon.

Humongous spaceships, built only for the rich, are leaving. The rich ones, the bright ones, the so-called pillars of the society, are leaving.

Their companies, their negligence, their money is what turned Earth into this foul breath, this disease, this nauseating smell of my father’s diarrhoeic stools. The air is black, the rain is acid, my neighbourhood is a graveyard because of them.

And yet they get to leave!

No, I cannot let this happen. I’ll unite my people. I’ll burn their spaceships. They’ll know the power of the working class!

 

Aditya Deshmukh

Aditya Deshmukh is a mechanical engineering student who likes exploring the mechanics of writing as much as he likes tinkering with machines. He writes dark fiction and poetry. He is published in over three dozen anthologies, and has a poetry book “Opium Hearts” coming out soon. He likes chatting with others who share similar interests, so feel free to check him out here:
Facebook : AdityaDeshmukhWrites
Instagram : DeepCrazyShit

 

The Hot Bunk

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by Shawn M. Klimek

 

Lieutenant Kent ached. His leaden eyelids fluttered as he struggled to focus on the faces above him.

“How are you feeling, Lieutenant?” asked Doctor Horn.

“Dying,” Kent croaked.

“The symbiote is weakening, too,” said Horn. “Both of you are dangerously sleep deprived.”

“The symbiote has been communicating with us every night!” enthused Major Owens. “It has finally agreed to share Vancian technology!”

“They can’t both continue sharing the same body,” the doctor clarified.

“But this is a great opportunity for mankind!” pleaded Owens.

“Please,” said Kent, fading. “End this!”

“You heard him, Doctor,” said the major. “We have his consent.”

 

Shawn M. Klimek

Shawn M. Klimek’s stories and poems have been published in scores of e-zines and anthologies, including “Grumpy Old Gods, Volume 1”, Zombie Pirate Publishing’s “World War Four”, and “Gold: The Best of Clarendon House Anthologies, Volume One, 2017/2018. Find more, including links to all his published works at A Jot In The Dark

 

Quick Salvage

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by Eddie D. Moore

 

I found the derelict in a degrading orbit around the fourth planet. With more time, I might’ve salvaged the experimental craft, but the computer gave me a forty-five minute window before it plunged into the atmosphere.

Smears of blood decorated the walls, and I tried not to look directly at the disfigured piles of flesh I stepped over to reach the bridge. I uploaded the memory core and grabbed what tech I could on the way out, while mentally tallying up the payout.

Safely aboard my own ship, I was watching the security video when something moved under my skin.

 

Eddie D. Moore

Eddie D. Moore travels extensively for work, and he spends much of that time listening to audio books. His stories have been published by Jouth Webzine, Kzine, Alien Dimensions, Theme of Absence, Devolution Z, and Fantasia Divinity Magazine. eddiedmoore.wordpress.com

 

On the House

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by Colleen Anderson

 

Jordan hated everything; wife left him for goddam grooming parlor, boss said he wasn’t meeting his quota.

He’d show them quota. He stormed into a bar, each person’s face hidden in the sins of their past.

 “Keep ‘em coming,” he ordered, slapping down his credit card. He would join the sinners.

The bartender snorted. “One rule. Don’t pass out. Never pass out!”

Jordan flooded his pain with whiskey shots and beer; then someone with too white a grin bought more.

Severe abdominal pain woke him. Straps restrained him, tubes leading to the bar.

The bartender smiled. “You’re on the house.”

 

Colleen Anderson

Colleen Anderson’s new and forthcoming fiction and poetry are in The Pulp Horror Book of Phobias, By the Light of Camelot, Canadian Dreadful, Tesseracts 22 and others. In 2018, I edited the Alice Unbound: Beyond Wonderland anthology, and a collection of my dark fiction, A Body of Work, was published by Black Shuck Books (UK). www.colleenanderson.wordpress.com.

 

The 97-Year-Old Science-Fiction Writer’s Untimely Time-Machine Computer

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by J. J. Steinfeld

 

The 97-year-old science-fiction writer began to type the final paragraph of his latest novel. In mid-sentence, a distinguished-looking gentleman appeared on the computer-monitor, replacing text.

“What the hell?” the writer growled.

“Greetings,” the monitor-gentleman replied.

“Who are you?”

“Herbert.”

“I don’t know any damn Herbert.”

“I travelled all this way to help.”

“Get lost!”

“I know about these things.”

“What things?”

“Time travel and writing…”

With his last breaths, the writer fought to get the intruder off his computer-monitor. H.G. Wells shook his head mournfully, saying he should have arrived earlier, but had been having trouble mastering electronic time-travel.

First published in Drabble Harvest #7

 

J. J. Steinfeld

Canadian fiction writer/poet/playwright J. J. Steinfeld lives on Prince Edward Island, where he is patiently waiting for Godot’s arrival and a phone call from Kafka. While waiting, he has published 19 books, including Madhouses in Heaven, Castles in Hell (Stories, Ekstasis Editions, 2015), An Unauthorized Biography of Being (Stories, Ekstasis Editions, 2016), Absurdity, Woe Is Me, Glory Be (Poetry, Guernica Editions, 2017), and A Visit to the Kafka Café (Poetry, Ekstasis Editions, 2018). His stories and poems have appeared in numerous anthologies and periodicals internationally, and over 50 of his one-act plays and a handful of full-length plays have been performed in North America.

 

Protected Class

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by Adam S. Furman

 

To the citizens and subjects of the Interplanetary Commonwealth:

Because of the abundance of knowledge about the human mind and great strides made in the understandings thereof, the Ministry of Offense has decided to update its Offense Code.  It does hereby recognize individuals identified as IQ-fluid as a protected class.  Any discrimination or harassment of an individual that displays any so-called insufficient knowledge, including but not limited to grammar, spelling, or comprehension, will be met with the same punishment as petty theft under £500.

This decree is effective at the moment your transmission is received.

Regards,

Minster of a Fence

 

Adam S. Furman

Adam S. Furman lives in rural Illinois with his family which includes a lot of kids (like…a lot). He generally writes science fiction.

Readers can connect with him on twitter @AdamSFurman.

 

Nodes and Modes

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by Beth W. Patterson

 

There was no sound in space, but she felt the music of the spheres with her whole body.

The starship had been programmed with pre-recorded songs to break the tedium. But she pined for live music, even more than she missed green grass beneath her feet, a crisp breeze, or sunlight.

And now looking at this newly discovered solar system, she observed planets in orbit forming intervals and chords as they passed one another. She saw harmony in relativity and motion.

How to begin the song? It will be in the key of whatever world she chooses to land on.

 

Beth W. Patterson

Beth W. Patterson was a full-time musician for over two decades before diving into the world of writing, a process she describes as “fleeing the circus to join the zoo”. She is the author of the books Mongrels and Misfits, and The Wild Harmonic, and a contributing writer to twenty anthologies.

Patterson has performed in eighteen countries, expanding her perspective as she goes. Her playing appears on over a hundred and sixty albums, soundtracks, videos, commercials, and voice-overs (including seven solo albums of her own).  

She lives in New Orleans, Louisiana with her husband Josh Paxton, jazz pianist extraordinaire.

 

A Breath So Sweet

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by Stephen Coghlan

 

Oh, The Horror!

I must escape!

I must flee!

But sanctuary is so impossibly far.

I gag!

I gasp!

I weep!

It is brimstone, It is cadavers, It is lethal gasses and deadly pollutants.

Hands claw at my throat, tear at my mask to no avail.

Can I not travel faster?

The airlock grows so slowly through the mist.

It burns, I blink away the pain, but my eyes refuse to focus.

There, numb fingers open the hatch, I crawl inside.

Watch the light.

Wait for it to turn green.

Rip off my helmet.

.

.

.

Advice: Never fart in your spacesuit.

 

Stephen Coghlan

Stephen Coghlan is an ever-expanding, multi-genre author who writes out of Canada’s National Capital.

His works include the Genmos series and the Dreampunk novella, URBAN GOTHIC.

If you like Stephen’s work, you can find him on Twitter as @WordsBySC or check out his website at scoghlan.com.