I shot my butler. R500's faults were many, burning the morning toast, giving me a crumpled newspaper to read, ushering guests into the wrong rooms to name a few. Robots should know better, after all their programming is far superior to our brains.

After a week of complaints from Marie, my third wife, the sexiest one I've had, R500 had to go. I used my new rifle to shoot him outside in the garden, scaring the peacocks strutting around on the lawn.

Obviously it was the wrong method of dispatch, he's back in the house, ironing my dress shirt for...

Leaving was the easiest decision to make, and the hardest action to take. I had to get out of the Martian prison and home for the past six years. John, the guard bribed to allow me to escape and take secrets stored in memories I could expose back on Earth.

A ship was scheduled the next day which would take me on the long journey home but modern technological advances meant I would get back to London sixteen hours later.

I regretted leaving behind my friends, knowing their fate but someone had to expose the lies about the great new...

Until now she'd never thought of herself as pretty. The unique medication, DNA time capsule designed especially allowed her to change the life path to the days before the car accident with Tom, her fiancee. It allowed her to view herself in the mirror and see the luscious lips, high cheek bones, startling blue eyes and finally believe she was attractive.

Back in her youth, every pimple, blackhead, red nose was agony. Comparisons to tv stars the norm.

She hoped there wouldn't be any side effects as she crossed the road on the way to buy a new dress forgetting...

The force pulled me off the ground against my will, I found myself sucked into the base of the UFO and into a large silver chair, restraints locked, eliminating escape.

Darkness, few bright pulsating lights in the distance, piano music filling the space. Terrified I tried pushing my wrists against the metal knowing it a useless waste of energy.

Loud whooshing sounds like an ocean in my ear magnified to unbelievable levels. Shutting my eyes expecting death then opening to find myself in bed alone.

The out of body experience manual beside me.

It worked.

She'd always come running when I called especially on the beach after a thunderstorm collecting amber. Knowing that I'd get worried because of the deep rockpools. As this was a different time, after the apocalypse, it was the other way around, she called out to me, worried that as an aging scavenger I'd come to harm on the shoreline each morning.

Keira, my beautiful grand daughter wanted me safe, home in front of the fire reading a newspaper, instead saw me beaten with fatigue, stumbling around the barren landscape hunting for food.

I love her.

They gathered in the woods. On Summerisle. The pagan community anticipating a good harvest. Burning the trapped victim in The Wicker Man twisted and crafted into shape by the hands of the children and teachers at school.

I watched from a distance, secretly recording. Traitor in the midst. They were my family, friends, neighbours. I was one of them yet I was not. I was a Christian. Would-be outcast in this community, not that anyone knew. This was going to be my parting gift to them.

Freedom from sin. End of a barbaric ritual. Once exposed to the rest of...

The city was empty. I lost my way back in the dark unfamiliar landscape, absence of neon flashing landmarks to guide, silence unnerving me like nothing ever had in my one hundred and eighty years on this planet. Since immortality was the norm, the world had changed beyond all imagination, people no longer wishing to stay cramped so scattered around the galaxy, Earth abandoned, unloved, only a few of us remained as guardians. But in essence we were prisoners of our grandparents greed, innovation and biological advances.

I am a very lonely man. We all are.

I held it at arm's length. The talking cat. No, I'm not insane. It's voice was higher and softer than human of course, but it talked just like the rest of us in English. I did ask if any other languages were known to it, but I was told it had been brought up by a family originally from Wales that had not been allowed to speak their mother tongue in their small village in Somerset.

Bob was it's name. Jet black. Educated, knew far more than me about current affairs, history, geography and was a whizz with the internet,...

Reading the random prompt for today I felt a shiver of unease as though someone had been spying on me throughout my life. I am not who I appear to be. Not a rich suburban housewife whose main pleasure in life is secretly eating a tub of toffee icecream watching daytime tv as my millionnaire husband is working overtime and entertaining clients with champagne in a 5 star restaurant. I spend my life between two worlds, a medieval princess whose life is complicated by my uncle, a brooding bishop and a bastard brother who thinks he has a claim to...

Kenya was the name of my doppelganger. I thought it a strange name, thought he might call himself Jim or John, both my names. I am James John Madison. But no, he told me he was Kenya that first time I spotted him in the bathroom at the hotel.

At first I thought I was hallucinating, but he was real. Not a ghost, but an actual man. He said it was amazing our paths had crossed this way although he always guessed there was a second version of him around.

We discussed urban legends, that seeing our other half could...