I was actually kind of under the impression that I wasn’t living a game. And I knew that I’d been living a life. It was very serious. Very serious repercussions for everything. There is no questioning that. What I was questioning with my own sanity. Which is perfectly understandable under the circumstances. I first spot at the kiosk on my way into work. It was nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve seen that type of thing pop up here in there every now and then. There would be some sort of an art installation and some public square. Occasionally signs were posted for various events various public works projects. Art projects things of that nature. Things that certain people who are somehow attached to the city decided to put up various places in an effort to make it more friendly to the residence and to harness the power of creativity or whatever. That’s all I assumed it was. I wasn’t even really looking at it very closely when I passed by on my way to work. Maybe I might’ve detected something strange about it and some cents. But I don’t know. Continue reading “The Kiosk by Russ Bickerstaff”
Decree 53 required all civilisations in the known universe to be prepared for Phase 5. Thus, when Thelma Yttkyd, MD, woke up and smelled smoke, she knew exactly what was expected of her. The previous year, when she lost two sisters and both her parents to the fires in the North, her rage swelled like a super nova, and she realised she had to speak up. She was rewarded with a prompt demotion from her position as Head of the Burns Unit and further humiliated when assigned to be a mop-up team leader.
Her nostrils told her the inferno had finally reached the East, the last un-scorched corner of Jordgubba’s only continent. No fear touched her heart, however, because she believed her own forecast, and knew her plan was almost foolproof. Continue reading “The Law of Inevitability by Peter Ninnes”
I have a vague recollection of someone once telling me that when they died they hoped the first thing that happened was that they were presented with a DVD of their entire life. Overwrapped – waiting for them to reminisce in full HD – an agreeable concept. Sugar-coated.
In all honesty, they were not too far from the truth. At least that was the case for me, and that (of course) is all the evidence I have to go on. The experience itself is more spasmodic; less obvious I guess: a balloon burst of innumerable images left to marinate the inside of what remained of my head. To settle, and filter – one at a time – through the two blank exit holes with which I had once been privy to a weird little thing called life. Continue reading “A Weird Little Thing Called Life by Richard Alexander”
Right now, I’m sitting in a queue about to have my memories erased, and soon they’ll be lost forever – such things are inevitable, I suppose, or so they tell me; but in these last few minutes, while I still can, I want to recall the day I first saw her, before it’s all gone; and when it’s all gone, as a common courtesy, maybe for the time being, you could remember it for me, on my behalf – at least until the moment comes when you have your memories erased too. Continue reading “Wake Up To Yourself by Aviva Treger”