Young Adult
Stolen Heart
"The Future is Male Again..." The hijacked Aerojet's cameras picked up the tag on the side of the building. The pilot responsible for hotwiring the wayward aircraft chuckled at the irony of the reverse message. Katina Bryson had lived to see the day when women were treated as superior to men (and only slightly beneath machines); but at what cost to civil relations...?
By Kent Brindley5 years ago in Fiction
The Color of Her Heart
Roop’s eyelids fluttered gently as she woke up to the rays of the morning sun. The sunlight made its way through the rips and tears of the old shawl she pinned over the glass square in the wall. The glass square is locked in place and does not allow any outdoor noise or fresh air to come into the small square room. It is meant to let in light only to wake up the room occupant. It is not supposed to be covered. It should not be covered.
By Nur-E Ferdous5 years ago in Fiction
Doomsday Diary
Have you ever woken up feeling disoriented, looked around and not recognized your own bedroom? Maybe after a big night out. Maybe after doing something you regret but know you’ll laugh about later. Maybe next to someone you’ll never see again… This time I’m not in my bedroom. A ringing in my ears persists loudly and shakes me into sobriety. Where the fuck am I? I try to stand up only to stumble onto the floor. The mattress I was sleeping on looks grey and worn, with dark stains on the far end. The only light in the room hangs from from a wire by the door, glowing a warm yellow. I use the wall as support to drag myself up from the floor and immediately feel a heaviness in my head as I try to piece together the events from the night before. I look down at my hands to see one of the tips of my fingers covered in a plaster. I vaguely remember knocking into someone last night and breaking my nail. I start to notice my finger pulsating and unravel the plaster to reveal the entire nail from my middle finger is gone, a bloody nail bed in its place. I gasp for air but instead feel my throat closing up. Tears fill my eyes as memories rush back and I crumble back down to the floor.
By Rebecca Leal 5 years ago in Fiction
Lab Rats
The woman's eyes dart rapidly, scanning the dilapidated Los Angeles streets as her heels pound through the rubble, shattering splinters down the pavement. The city, vibrant from a distance, shows cracks in the convincing facade when viewed with scrutiny. Buildings, once state of the art, line the streets crumbling in disrepair after years of tyranny and war, covered in ivy and inundated by squatters. The upper floors, however, tell a different story of luxury, dominated by Skyborn. In the skies, airships streak by, some blimp shaped and bulky, others streamlined and luminous. The woman is simply a blip in the idealistic landscape.
By Jessica Braatz5 years ago in Fiction
Angel of Death
I tugged my hair loose from its braid, golden waves cascading to my shoulders. Running my fingers through it, I grimaced. I couldn’t remember the last time I had taken my hair out of its braid, forget about the last time I had washed it. The stream gurgled invitingly next to me, offering the promise of reprieve from the grime that seemed to have become a living part of me. Tossing my clothes on the bank, I waded into the water. It lapped at my thighs and the sun warmed my bare skin. I sank below the water and only then did I allow my mind to wander.
By Lynne-Grace Wooden5 years ago in Fiction
With Love, G.W.
The chirping of cicadas is the only sound that occupies the dimly lit intersection of Citadel Road and First Avenue. It’s 1:55 a.m. and her window of opportunity is just ten minutes from closing. The night patrol is turning in, and the early morning shift never starts their rounds before 2:05. With one final glance at the nearest guard post, Robyn lowers herself down from her flat’s second floor window and proceeds toward the graveyard.
By Wahneta Berry5 years ago in Fiction
