Tag: Science fiction

Fiction by Idle InkApr 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 Idle InkDec 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 Idle InkOct 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 Idle InkAug 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 Idle InkJun 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 Idle InkMay 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 Idle InkApr 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.

Fiction by Idle InkMar 4, 202311:06 am

The Time Traveling Gigolo by Robert Nazar Arjoyan

The modern howl of the train never fails to break the spell. Unless of course it’s synchronal, in which case, choo-choo. Regardless, the sex is phenomenal.

My name is Paty, last name immaterial. That might not even be my first name, just so you know, but it is. Paty from LA. That’s LA like Los Angeles not Louisiana. I’ve hopped around town all my life – from Noho to Venice and all the way to Alhambra – but I was born in Glendale. Living back there now in an old Spanish style bungalow situated in the Tropico district, southwards, bordering Atwater and within a whisper of Los Feliz. I rent from an ancient fiend named Miller. I don’t know if that’s his first name or his last name and I don’t care. 3,500 a month gets sluiced out of my checking and goes into Miller’s moldy old coffers because I no longer have a home – it’s been wrecked. Did you catch on or should I elucidate? No, you’re smart. When I slid the cheap wedding band I’d worn for thirteen years off my finger, I felt OK. Know why? Because underneath the ring, I noticed that my skin there was lighter than the rest of me. I still had a teeny bit of myself left untainted by wasted time and misplaced love.

Fiction by Idle InkFeb 4, 202312:04 pm

A Quiet Drink with a Sentient Filter Coffee Machine by Robert Garnham

The first and possibly only time that I came across a sentient filter coffee machine, which wheeled itself around on a metal trolley bringing its carafe more or less up to face-height, and thereby encouraging discourse, chit-chat, conversation, took place earlier this year. I was staying at a small business hotel in the town of Woking, having arrived early evening following a day of mindless oblivion at what had been labelled a company seminar and meet / greet, but was more an excuse for head office to show us films about how wonderfully they thought the company was doing, and how exciting the future apparently looked.

The seminar had taken place in the function room of a large multinational hotel in the centre of the town, but because I had signed up for it late, I had been forced to find my own accommodation, and this is why I’d chosen the smaller business hotel, which was a three mile drive out of the town centre. I’d seen the coffee machine in the reception area, somewhat near the computerised self-check-in screen, and, having entered my particulars and been given my room key, I’d then gone to help myself to what was apparently a free coffee, thinking that this was an incredibly kind gesture by the owners of the hotel.