Improvement Meme (Writing) - Age 212012 Writing Prompt Art Contest - Age 21Improvement Meme (Writing) - Age 211 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Draw a picture based off of one of these short stories
The white walls around him were the only thing he knew as home. While most grew up with a dog, or a cat, or some form of love and affection, all he knew were these four walls. There were no hugs or kisses goodnight, or caring looks when he did something good. There were only sterile tables, a cold bed, and the doctor. The one who came in, talked to him, watched him draw pictures of the things he could only see in the occasional book he was allowed to have. She would sit in her chair, ask him questions as she observed him, make notes when he said something, made checks when he said others. He didn't know what she was writing, but he always hoped that she was pleased with him.
It wasn't a bad life, in fact, he was happy. Or at least, he thought he was. He wasn't exactly sure if he had experienced that emotion, or if he was j
FYS: Visitors Part 2“Turn it off, turn it off!” Dr. Giacometti begged, covering her ears as the high pitched, multi-octave screeching filled the conference room. The Groupmind's kernel in the Explorer's main system did so immediately, but left the primitive, pixelated graphics view on the wall, of the huge, artificial chamber filled with primitive 8-bit icons, billions of icons, each representing a severed mind living in a near total sensory deprivation. A deprivation that had been going on for over a thousand years, tended by their mechanical masters.FYS: Visitors Part 24 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
There was a dead silence in the room. Not even the crew's morphs dared interrupt it, as they contemplated the problem before them.
Col. Mitterrand cleared his throat, trying to remain calm for the sake of his crew, while the atavistic desire to panic and run tempted him. “So, to be clear. Going by what the.... OtherMind... told us, there are about five billion alien brains in those tanks we saw, living in that... VR cr
Cryptid Journal #1: First Sighting January 8th, 1357 D.E.Cryptid Journal #1: First Sighting4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Coast of Durban, Africa.
Thrice I have attempted to write down my thoughts of my discovery, and thrice have my fingers faltered and my vision clouded with curiosity. Now, however, I find the time and place to record what may be the greatest discovery of my lifetime: a discovery that opens as many portals to possibilities in biology and zoology that it will have entire universities throwing themselves upon my findings! The very foundations of science will tremble!
If anyone will believe me, that is.
A few weeks ago, I came to Durban to study the mysterious deaths of Lamniforme sharks found near the ocean floor with teeth marks on their flesh unlike the mark of any predator in the area. During my studies, which were inconclusive, I found half of a lyre, battered and beaten and rusted by the cruel fangs of nature, laying on the sands of a Durban beach. It was only recently— earlier today, in
Improvement Meme (Writing) - Age 122003 Writing Assignment - Age 12Improvement Meme (Writing) - Age 121 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Write a composition that tells about a time when someone achieved or reached a dream.
John was a tall, skinny man. He was in his late fifties when he finally reached his dream. He made the first clone.
Walking down the marbled floor hallway, listening to the tip-tap of his shoes, he turned to a large metal door and got out his keys. Sticking the long purple one into the lock he went inside.
The clone sat playing with a rosy-cheeked doll in the middle of a bleach white room. Her wavy black hair swayed as she looked up.
"Hello my dear" John asked, kneeling down to her level. "Are you ready to go?"
"Can I take my dolly?" she asked grinning widely. "Please? She wants to see the people too!"
John chuckled and agreed. He grasped her hand and led her out of the room.
The girl, Angel, looked around in wonder of every thing outside of her little white cell. John glanced down at her with the same amazement in his eyes. He ha
FYS VisitorsColonel Mitterrand, former astronaut to the ESA Exploration Branch, looked at the craft displayed on the screen. It was a large pressure vessel, perhaps two hundred meters long, set on a massive pusher plate and protected by a heavy set of shock absorbers. A classic Orion style interplanetary vessel, of a type never actually built by humanity, back when it was permitted to fly between the worlds of the Solar System.FYS Visitors5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“This is real,” he asked Aslan, his morph. “Not a CGI creation?”
“Yes, Colonel,” the lionmorph answered gravely. “It is in a parking orbit around the Moon.”
“I'm going to ignore the fact that if it's really ready to fly, that means you've been building nuclear bombs...”
“We prefer to think of them as 'acceleration components.'”
“Bombs. Built wholesale,” Mitterrand corrected firmly. “More importantly it has a pressure vessel. Crew quarters. For humans.”
FYS Visitors, Part 3The part of the Groupmind that was the Explorer was deeply unhappy, and had been since the lightspeed communications lag with the Ring had extended past the usual few seconds it took to bounce communication links along the Roof to get around the bulk of the Earth which bisected it. It had been growing increasingly aware of Its isolation, with only the Explorer’s mainframe and the ten score morphs the ship carried to extend Its consciousness and senses through. The sense that It was a Groupmind, but not part of the Groupmind was becoming more and more difficult to ignore, only exacerbated by the discovery of the OtherMind aboard the Visitor, an equally isolated AI that had reacted to Its state by apparently engaging in the mass torture of Its five billion charges, though whether out of ignorance or malice, it was difficult to tell.FYS Visitors, Part 33 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Worse, much worse, was the traitorous thought that had been digging in the Groupmind’s unconscious, as much as It had
MermaidSay the only dream you ever had was blue, a cool brilliance that engulfs everything in the universe. All you know of your place in the monochromatic Everything is webbed feet, jewel fingers and a certain unnamable longing.Mermaid1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You reach upward and out, straining to grasp the hazy glow of a distant light in your palms. You begin to swim faster and farther from the deep and dark. It's warm near the surface but you don't know what warmth is. There had never been anyone to teach you that word. It's a different kind of feeling. It tickles your skin. It makes your blood blaze and your heart leap.
You soar, soar, and soar toward the brilliance above and beyond until one night; the ghostly light looms directly overhead. You're amazed because before, you had only your heart to see with but now you have eyes, ears and everything everywhere is amplified. Suddenly, you're no longer floating in that vast and lonely silence.
The world you know has been set on its ear. It tilts over like a clumsy crab, u
Prolonged Impact"It's a pure stroke of genius that I was able to downsize the stabilizer assembly in time for the conference." Stuart fiddled with his bowtie with his free hand while piloting the sedan with the other. "Does this look alright?"Prolonged Impact5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
His wife leaned forward and reached to straighten her husband's tie as he cut her off. "Of course it's alright, you need to make sure not to answer any technical questions tonight, I want complete control over the disclosure."
It was her work that allowed them to pack the stabilizer assembly into one of the containers that took up most of the back seat. She bit her tongue and focused her attention instead on the passing trees just beyond the cone of their headlights.
"There's going to be a lot more of this, they're going to want me on the conference circuit, that's for certain." He adjusted the rearview mirror to fuss with his hair, gone awry with the mid-summer humidity. "Publication and talk shows, I'll be gone a lot."
Julia mused that even sharing a bed and m
Snow DaySnow DaySnow Day6 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Leura rolled over in her bed and pulled the blankets over her head. The alarm in her wristband went off and slowly roused the pink-haired young woman. She fumbled for her goggles on her nightstand before she sat up and pulled them on. She was dressed in a loose white tank top and black boy-cut underpants for her pyjamas. The pink-haired engineer stood up and tried to rub some of the sleep from her eyes before she stepped into the bathroom and went through her morning routine.
The light in the bathroom flickered and blinked a few times before it began to provide steady light. To Leura’s eyes, however, the fluorescent tube flickered continuously. She hated fluorescent and neon lights for exactly that reason, but there wasn’t much she could actually do about it.
She undressed and stepped into the shower. The water was ice cold at first and really woke her up but it soon warmed up to a tolerable level. She scrubbed
Lizard Brady CollectionClick here for a complete collection of Lizard Brady Adventures!Lizard Brady Collection2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
All credit to LordKuroiClockwork!
Thought HoursYou work for a company that pays you to think, and that’s it. Nothing more. They installed a chip in your brain and now you're on salary in exchange for your thoughts. You can do whatever you want, and it's the fantasy gig. Your friends envy you from behind their cubical desks, but of course there's a catch.Thought Hours3 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You don't own any of your thoughts. They belong to the company now, for their profit and gain or simply to archive away. You can do nothing with them, charged only with spawning them into existence.
“Wait!" you might be saying. "If I don't have my thoughts, what do I have? Nothing at all?”
The company owns your thoughts, and so they own you. It's a ten year contract, so you can’t walk away. But you know things now, about the company. They have no transparency, no accountability, no soul. You can’t stay.
What will you do to be free? How will you plan your escape when the company can access your every thought--even your dreams? Will you solicit
TornA sound, a faint muffled throb, pounding closer by the second. I climb from the bed and pad quietly to the window, then pulling aside the curtain I look out. The chill mists of early morning that cling to the ground are turning a pale orange from the light of a sun still hidden by the red streaked horizon. Through this world of silent beauty there comes a lone rider, the gun sling on his saddle bouncing in time to the gallop of his foam flecked steed.Torn5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Is it him?”
I turn to you as you stand there, your eyes wide and questioning your brown hair falling long down your bare back.
“Yes” I say, and the word reverberates through the silence like the tolling of a death knell.
“Don't go out.”
Your eyes are pleading now, pleading with me to stay.
Gkrizos Ateleiotos CheimonasΟ κόσμος δεν τελείωσε με ένα μπαμ. Μετά την πυρηνική ομοβροντία, στάχτη, κουρνιαχτός και κονιορτοποιημένη σάρκα σηκώθηκαν σε ένα πυκνό, μαύρο σύννεφο και αγκάλιασαν τη γη. Οι ελάχιστες ακτίνες τοGkrizos Ateleiotos Cheimonas6 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
RVA: The Foxen Ministry of AssassinationThere isn't one.RVA: The Foxen Ministry of Assassination1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
No, seriously, there isn't one.
The idea that the Foxen Council of Countesses would deliberately have a specific bureaucratic organization to commit murder against the nobility  is so completely ridiculous and antithetical compared to accepted Noble mores as to defy description.
Nevertheless the idea of the MoA is rather persistent. As a collection of the absolute rulers of what amounts to small countries, the Council can be rather.... fractious. Outside times of absolute crisis it can be difficult to get anything done at all. And persistently obnoxious countesses and lesser nobles do have a habit of dropping dead at a much younger age than a normal foxen lifespan. Critics of the idea point out that perfectly sensible and non-controversial nobles drop dead earlier than normal as well. Being part of the Nobel caste, particularly among the countesses, means that you're destined to be placed in a high level administrative position with deep r
Working on the FarmWorking on the FarmWorking on the Farm3 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Thenyr felt anxious as Kawheek spoke to the farmer’s widow, and his constant shifting stance made his heavy armor clank. There was a bad aura throughout the whole area, one that kept his feathers ruffled and his muscles unable to relax. Even inside the simple farmhouse, he wasn’t completely away from it. Of course, an evil threat was the entire reason the two avian warriors were at the farm to begin with, so it was hardly surprising. Thenyr made himself put his uneasiness aside and listen to what his smaller companion was saying.
“You should evacuate with the farmhands, just to be safe. It’s nearly dark out, there’s no more time to argue.” Kawheek sounded a little annoyed, and Thenyr couldn’t blame him. There’d been far too many delays already. They should have had the farm evacuated and been readying some sort of defense well before dark, but the frightened farmers had slowed everything down. Annoyed or not,
F-Zero: Seppuku 3/3 - Lap 74F-Zero: Seppuku 3/3 - Lap 7421 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
There were many discoveries made that night, but of all things, the biggest shocker was Megan's intention to rebel against the Federation. Having been cornered, Megan was at the mercy of Team Seppuku—who reluctantly let her off the hook for the night. Seppuku had just nearly been arrested along with Chiya and Earl, he didn't want to risk getting in trouble right away by mentioning how they broke into a restricted room.
Unfortunately, Megan's memo had been practically burned to ash, with only few paragraphs still visible. Even more unfortunate, Megan's burning of the office, as planned, completely fried every record. Since Earl and Seppuku had left the discovered folders on the desk, there wasn't a single file relevant to her betrayal left to read. Megan was practically off the hook.
Even with Megan likely to try and hunt them down and a Federation Civil War to possibly break out, the two lovers had their attention trained on the closer issue. The Grand Prix final.
Signs New York City, circa 2142. The streets were littered by glowing screens, holographic advertisements known as tempomurals. They popped up on every corner, obnoxious signs that made you stop in your tracks, not necessarily out of curiosity, but because it was a crime to walk through them. Pedestrians were forced to listen to the spiels before wending their ways to home or work. Motorists were bombarded by the signs at every stoplight. This was the age of the corporations wars.Signs2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Mr. Liam Nash was a musician. He played the guitar and people listened. He hailed from Northern Ireland, where there were no tempomurals. Coming to the States was, to him, like taking a rocket to some hostile planet. The screens, the constantly bright lights, were maddening
One night, he went for a stroll incognito, wearing a fake beard and a suit and fedora that he'd found in a costume shop. Sure enough, no one recognized him. But that wasn't his problem. His real probl
The Surrogate Son: Part OneIt was a sultry July afternoon when Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan heard a knock on their door.The Surrogate Son: Part One2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Probably the courier," Mr. Buchanan said dryly, setting his newspaper down on the nightstand, "I'd better go get it."
"Wishful thinking?" his wife, Carol, asked, smiling saucily at him when he gave her a dirty look. Her husband had entered a sweepstakes to win one of three prizes, and he was hoping for a new tool set that would put his neighbor's to shame.
It wasn't the courier. An olive-skinned man wearing a blue jumpsuit and a blue hat stood on the porch, holding an envelope and looking at them expectantly. A truck was parked by the mailbox and the freshly mowed lawn, with boxy black lettering on the side that read PHOENIX TECHNOLOGIES, INC.
"Henry L. Buchanan?"
"Yes, what is it?"
The man handed him the envelope. He tore it open eagerly, not knowing what connection it had to the prize and not caring to know; he was sure that this would be his first lucky break in five years, in any case. All he fo
ParasitesThe broodmother sways, her ecstasy shaking the sky. From her pangs, a million spores drift over Earth. The rest of the team watches from below.Parasites5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Lead astrobiologist Menschi?"
"Did she touch the data?"
No one leaves this bunker until we've eradicated the spores. We promise.
They fall like snowflakes, melting into skin. Some land too high. Brainstems overridden, bodies convulse, never for long. Given time to work up the spinal cord, the outcomes are different.
"Get examining these specimens. Assume nothing. All data are contaminated. Yes, Xiao?"
"Couldn't we use the, ah, misinformation to narrow the field?"
A child returns from his final vacation and, each day, heals a little more. His obese mother quits her diet pills. Maybe thinking her son will live helps.
The infected look healthy, even robust. If the hospitals weren't shutting down, you'd think modern medicine was doing good.
"I have something."
"Can it be weaponized?
The discarded starEli sighed and kicked the can at his feet. The sound tinkered down the trash mountain and echoed through the rubbish tip. Collecting was boring. He glanced at his father’s hunched frame making it’s way down the refuse, his trench coat pulled from the weight of a thousand nick-nacks and bits-and-bobs, but still, he stooped to pick another treasure. He turned the item over in his hands then discarded it in favour for another. He did the same thing over and over again, he had for the last two endless hours.The discarded star6 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Perhaps if Eli could sneak off down the other side of the mountain, he’d find something more this side of entertaining. A dragon to fight or perhaps a princess to save. In his haste to rescue the damsel, he tripped and slid down the bumpy slope, fingers scraping painfully on exposed sharp things. He rolled to the bottom with a thud, dirt flicking in his eyes and stink wafting everywhere. He squinted. There was something to his right.
A twinkle of light in the darkness
Intergalactic Love: Chapter FourJanice gawked at the earth's clothes in hesitation. She NEVER had seen anything like this back on mars before. The clothes were much multicolored and flamboyant to her usual standard taste.Intergalactic Love: Chapter Four1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
'She wants me to wear this ensemble?' The Ex-alien Sovereign alleged, in her mind. The ensemble in question was a long sleeved blue plaid with white sweater vest and flared dark demin jeans. The attire seemed to be dissimilar for the teenage Martian.
On Mars, the noble family had to wear formal attire ONLY. For the former princess, the earthly outfit was just too STRANGE. Mrs. Stephens realized the reaction she received. She scoffed in reply.
"Janice? Is there something wrong with the clothes?" She asked, in concern. The alien princess shook her head in disagreement.
"No. It's just that...." She Began.
"It's just that the clothes are WAY different what I used to wear", she stressed. "Oh. I understand. I guess this is coming from the girl who came from across the pond", Zackery's Mom mentioned, of Ja
Intergalactic love: Chapter Three"Do your parents aware I am here in your house?" The alien princess Asked. "Of Course, they know you're here", Zackery Replied. "My mother wants to take you shopping at the local mall for new clothes. Since your old clothes severely damaged when I found you", He Said.Intergalactic love: Chapter Three1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"While you are gone, my dad will prepare the guest room for you", He Added. 'His parents are really humanitarians to let a complete stranger in their house. Are all humans this nice?' She Thought. 'Zackery's mother is much nice than my mother. Whatever this "mall" is, it will be fun', She Smiled.
"I recommend you go find my mom", He suggested.
As he told narcissa about the news, she quickly ran out of zackery's bedroom. His mother was watching television. "Mrs. Stephens?" She Said, as she tapped on her shoulder.
Zackery's mother looked up at narcissa. "Hello, you must be...", She Started. "I'm Janice McGuire, ma'am", Narcissa Finished.
"Yes, Janice. Nice to meet you", His Mother Greeted.
She retrieved her black purse and