I am really nervous. It's there. Looming. And I feel like if I move it will know, and everything around me will crumble.
So I wait and I wonder. Why I came. Why I am still here. Why there aren't forces out there that could rectify what is clearly the most dire of situations.
But I know there are no such forces. It's just me. Alone. Except I am not alone. It is still here. There. Moving closer.
I know there are only two choices: stay and await my ultimate defeat. The ultimate death. Stagnation...darkness. Or move closer to it,...

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Johnny, my boyfriend was aptly named. Laura, my dad's girlfriend called him 'The Pirate' because of his long dark curly hair, caught up around the forehead with an old blue and white bandana. Looking remarkably like Johnny Depp in his Caribbean pirate movies.

I suspected something was going on between them. Lots of eye contact, protracted, meaningful. And they were always joking about, you know that kind of banter where you can just feel the sexual tension.

Johnny was handsome so I suppose it wasn't that unusual. He looked mean and sexy in his long black leather coat, black boots...

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The Moon would never be the same again.

Sure, nothing important in its construction had changed. It was still the same old mass of rock hanging on an ever-decaying orbit around the larger mass of rock that we call home. But it was different.

Maybe the giant structure unfolding on its surface had something to do with it.

This mission had taken years to even green-light, never mind anything else. But now, we were here. Standing on the moon, with a base. It wasn't anything special, though. We were heading to Mars with a similar base the next week.

But...

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The moon would never be the same again.

It was three years ago, and she had just gotten off work. She worked late back then, and she stared up at the black sky and pondered herself.

"Who am I?" she whispered aloud, to nobody in particular.

She realized that over the years, she'd put herself into a box. Everything about her, from her work habits, to her social life, even down to her gender identity, were in effort to be normal.

As she stared at the bright circle that stood out against the sky, she realized that being different from...

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"The river's on fire," said my son. The river did seem to be on fire, if you were only looking at the river.

"No, the sky is," I told him. A reflection from above. He shrugged his shoulders.

He didn't ask why the sky was on fire, just bowed his over over the rowboat's side and continued looking for fish. Small, darting, the color of the river bed, the fish beneath the fire, the river beneath the fire.

My eyes toward the sky, waiting for the fire to come down.

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Leonard stumbled back. He almost fell. His heart raced and sweat stuck his shirt to his belly and back and armpits. He'd had patients worse off than Bea, patients with bloody ends, with pointless existances, tortured creatures that lived and died hooked to electricity and strapped to beds. None with the relative safety and comforts that he'd been treating Bea in, the comfort of home.

This was a scheduled meeting in the garden, she'd come from the trees, barefoot, bare arms, makeup garishly applied and with the gauzy veil over her face. His boy would laugh, he imagined, would point...

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I'm in love with a robot. Thing is, she doesn't even notice. She doesn't even have any feelings, whatsoever. Her positronic net doesn't have the capacity for joy, or anger, or love.

Naturally, this poses a problem.

How do I tell her about my feelings? She knows the dictionary definition of love. But she doesn't know the meaning. I have no idea how she would take it. Would she just acknowledge it, and then continue on with her work?

The worst part is, the fact that she has no emotions is part of the reason I love her. She can't...

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People always said that I was like a coin. I had two sides.

No one really knew what side they were speaking to. I'd always laugh it off and say I as a Gemini by nature. I had two personalities. I had two ways of looking at things. I was two people.

Until one of them died. The happy side. The reasonable side. The rational side. The RIGHT side. For some reason I just stopped being a double act.

What was left was wrong. I am wrong now. Many people had left me when that side died. My sister would...

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"I can do this," Jimmy thought as he ran across the field. It was early Sunday morning; the light was pale and there was still dew on the grass. At 5 A.M., Mom had woken up in a cold sweat groaning and swiping at imaginary demons in her bedroom.

"Go get Aunt Jane," Dad had said. Jimmy had never seen his hands shake or heard his voice crack.

After the first mile, a stitch built in Jimmy's side. He was breathing heavy. Another mile ahead was Aunt Jane's tiny cabin. She lived alone and had a garden of herbs. When...

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He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet.

"I just ate a fire hydrant," he said.

Mom and I were drinking tea by the fire. Now mom's brow furrowed.

"Donald, whatever do you mean?"

Donald peeled up his soaking wet shirt so we could see the hydrant protruding through his skin. I could see flecks of red paint trying to break through the skin above his solar plexus.

Mom went into the kitchen and came back with some pliers.

"We have to remove that hydrant," she said.

She stuck the pliers down his throat and...

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