Tag: Science fiction

Fiction by Jun 1, 202410:45 am

Ding by Garrett Berberich

Department of Memory: Statement on Recent Memory Note^TM Upgrades

Memory Note^TM, the alert system transforming our conception of life, has been upgraded, announced the Department of Memory (DoM) today.

Upon completion of the Pilot Phase, DoM has done what it promised to do from the outset: learn. Upgrades to Memory Note^TM align with the system’s purpose: to bring memory to the present by alerting us in real time of which experiences we’ll remember far into the future.

Said Terry Bernham, Secretary of Memory. “The knowledge of what we will remember refines our behavior, changes our future, and adds meaning to our lives. This knowledge is NOTEworthy.”

Essay by Jun 1, 202410:42 am

My Future Android — A Speculative Essay by David Henson

At my age, there’s half a chance… maybe half a hope… I’ll have an android to ease the weight of later years, help me stay in my own home.

Perhaps it’ll arrive fully assembled. Neither male nor female, its skin will be smooth as mine decades ago. I’ll train it to recognize my face and voice, understand the meaning of an arched eyebrow and intonations. We’ll take turns squeezing each other’s hands so it learns to modulate it’s strength. I’ll teach it to do the dishes. If it puts the cups where the plates belong, I’ll correct it politely.

Fiction by Apr 6, 202411:29 am

The Moon Under Water by J.D. Strunk

The operation had been a success. Moreover, it had been painless, just as Dr. Mayfield had promised. James had been skeptical, seeing as he was going to be awake as they cut into his brain. (James was well aware the brain had no nerves, but the skull surely did.) But Dr. Mayfield had been correct—James had felt nothing beyond a slight pressure. And now, with the chip implanted, James would never feel anything unpleasant ever again.

* * *

The first time James used his new power was the following Friday, during his company’s quarterly earnings review. The chip functioned flawlessly—eight hours of meetings passed in the blink of an eye—and James left the office wearing a large grin. His cube-mate and closest thing to a work friend, Alan, noticed his buoyant disposition.

Flash fiction. by Dec 2, 202312:05 pm

Ice Houses by Zary Fekete

The pilot talked over the in-cabin speakers, and I mostly let it wash over me. Those of you sitting on the sun-side of the craft, please keep the windows darkened. In the event of a sub-orbital flight-failure, blue lights on the floor will illuminate the path to the eject capsules. Etc. Etc. The only time my ears perked up was when she mentioned the approach toward Saturn. This would be the longest flight I had taken so far, and I wanted to hear the recommended gravity settings.

I looked out the window as the craft took off, and, in the split second before the acceleration into the slip-space portal, I saw several white lakes dotted around Duluth come into view in the distance, their waters frozen in the dead of January, variously peppered with little black ice-fishing houses. I smiled. In my mind I saw a young boy, holding his father’s hand as they walked across the frozen surface toward their ice-house.

Fiction by Oct 7, 202310:38 am

Misfits by Hilary Ayshford

The club only ever had two members: Eric and me. There were plenty of other weirdos at school – techno-geeks, nerds, gamers, Goths, those who went geocaching in the woods at weekends or played the glockenspiel in the school orchestra. There were even a couple of stamp collectors and a lone plane spotter. But we agreed that although they were all outcasts in their own way, they weren’t in our league.

Eric and I started partnering up in lessons, mainly because nobody else wanted to work with us.

‘We misfits have to stick together,’ Eric said.

Fiction by Aug 5, 202310:54 am

When Henry Ford Hired The Invisible Man By Maureen Mancini Amaturo

I am invisible. As yet, I have not been able to reverse that. I need money to continue my optics research to discover the remedy, and my resources will not last to fund equipment, chemicals, a place to conduct my experiments. This apartment serves me for the moment, but I will not be able to afford it much longer. A classified I saw in the morning paper seemed a timely opportunity.

“Ford, here.”

I could tell by his voice he was a man of little patience. I got right to the point. “Griffin calling. Your classified for an opening on the assembly line, the night shift, has it been filled?”

Fiction by Jun 3, 202312:02 pm

Partners by DL Shirey

He took the name Desmond this time. It sounded nice as he said it out loud. He repeated the name, trying to commit it to memory.

“What’d you say?” his partner muttered; words slurred.

“Nothing,” Desmond said in the language both knew. Then he made the mistake of letting slip his partner’s real name. It sounded as foreign as any other word in their tongue and Desmond was pretty sure no one in Albuquerque spoke it. Nonetheless, it was against the rules and Desmond received a sharp elbow for the error.

Fiction by May 6, 20239:28 am

Takeda by Christopher A. Walker

From the plane window, Tokyo yawns gray and endless. At this altitude, it all seems still, like a diorama. Despite the serenity of this quiet scene, I can’t shake this twinge of panic that haunts me every time I get on a plane.

It’s been some time since I was last in Japan. One day I’d like to visit without any interviews, no all-nighters spent hammering out a first draft, counting the difference between JST and PST on my fingers like a nervous tic. Among Tokyo’s millions, I hope to find one man. A man who doesn’t know I exist, but whose work and the questions it leaves unanswered have shaped the course of my life indelibly. I need to ask him how he made something that shouldn’t be possible.

The only problem is that Yusei Takeda disappeared twenty-three years ago.

Flash fiction. by Apr 1, 202312:18 pm

Why My Pot Pie is on Fire in the Toaster Oven by Victoria Wraight

It’s been a week since the chasm opened, and I’m getting sick of scraping moss off my shampoo bottles.

The crater is as big as my cat Meatball, and smells like sulfur and honey and the perfume my Aunt Janet stopped wearing when Grandma told her she smelled like a floozy. Meatball bats a jingly toy mouse into the chasm, and the pit widens further with a burst of fresh yellow spores that cling to my armchair like fleas. It’ll be gone by nightfall. The spores eat, the moss spreads, and the vines steal.