Zero written by Gabriel House "Shansal atyon ek Shi Y'lontwi. Uhd a dratha, vo vorrah raast. Fur Xesh tolla, Cresh van raacha." "Suhdo suhdo uiynana Vee Antu. Criebel kona andanu fron krishlashil." In that time before the first fire, there was one who was two, I-I, high majesty of all. There was no existence but that of sleeping brother-sister, who's heart beat as one was all and there was no other. In the mind that was one there arose then, great visions of music and towers that shimmered in the light of pale star. And there also, dancing amidst the twinkling void was a vision of music in form. It was Life. Life sailed on moonglint wings and wore a face made...
Mr. Prosser’s Appointment written by GX Barnett Instagram: @thegodsendfromgravesend This would be Mr. Prosser’s 981st doctor’s visit since the accident which, in a normal lifetime, would have seemed like far too many. Luckily for the now 388-year-old Arnold Prosser, these visits are now more akin to “tune-ups” than they are matters of life and death. As the first human to receive the combination of an artificial heart, cybernetic eye, pneumatic jaw, and prosthetic lung from one 43-hour surgery, he was world renown as a modern marvel. All the subsequent experimental upgrades since then have anointed him a savior to millions. It has been the only positive that came from the accident that had killed his beloved wife. “A pleasure to see you again,...
A Bunch of People written by J. T. M. Sharp Instagram: @jtmsharp To say "this world is alive" is true in at least three different senses. First, I am alive and I am part of this world. Thus, at least some subset of the world is alive. That's the trivial sense that is always true by definition. Second, qualities pervade the world, and with them a kind of primitive consciousness, down to the smallest particle. If you want to call that alive, call it alive. I do, though some people have a problem with it. It's fun to think about--but still, this sense is not the one to which I refer. My keister is currently parked on a small planet in the constellation...
The Ship written by Bobby Alverson instagram: @jetpack_bob *Cough* *Cough* , , *Cough* “Is it supposed to be so smokey,” the kid waved his hand in front of his face furiously trying to dissipate the black cloud that was accumulating in front of him. “Ah, don’t worry about it. That’s just a little exhaust,” the old man lit up a cigarette, as if there wasn’t enough smoke already occupying the space between them. “I’m just worried about whether or not this hunk of junk is actually gonna fly.” The old man took a long drag from the cigarette and looked off into the distance, “this baby’s seen more action than your little pecker will in a lifetime.” He gave the hull...
Revelation-9 written by J.G. Bruce The charred and battered skull of a combat tech is placed delicately on my workbench. I am to repair, extract, and report to Central Command by 0900 a week from today. I wonder if this shattered pebble is all that’s left of the Jewel of Mars or if they’re just not willing to give me more than a single piece. Surely, the Mindweavers can’t be the only organization they’ve commissioned to analyze the remains of Zion. Regardless, I must do what I can to reveal why this tragedy occurred. And more importantly, who. Who exactly could benefit from setting our species back nearly a century? It’s hard to imagine that the United People's Republic could do...
