I have been reading all of those stories about some strange creatures invading the Earth from another planet. One politician even says that there is a space war starting.
Don’t believe any of those lies. We are only visiting. We are staying for a long time because we like you.
A body on the floor, warm blood drip, drip, dripping onto the carpet.
He has my face. My beautiful young face.
I was going to set things right. That’s what the time machine was for. But he wouldn’t listen and I got angry.
I always was my own worst enemy.
Engineers created robots that wrote music based on brainwaves.
We wanted to hear thoughts of wonder, imagining a new wave of ‘sub-conscious’ brain-raves.
Exhilaration turned to panic as a deeply buried sorrow filled our ears. A dying world screamed within our minds, and we had turned the volume up loud.
His name was called at fourteen-hundred hours Zulu Time. Winners (losers) of this lottery went up to surface level.
No contact in 31 days. Rations running dangerously low.
Necessary for the continuation of government. Shaking his hand and smiling. This burlesque head of state before him never made the shortlist.
When the radiation cleared, they were ready.
When they ventured, blinking, out onto the surface, they were overwhelmed, but they were ready.
When they followed the maps, found the seed vault intact, they were ready.
When a fat mouse ran across the littered cement floor – no one was ready.
Sarah Krenicki likes writing short fiction about large things.
“Is the temperature of your experimental tank okay?” the alien inquires.
“It’s fine,” I reply, words bubbling up through the strange pink liquid.
“Want to watch Twilight Zone re-runs while we test?”
“Nah.”
“Have to ask,” he explains. “New regulations.”
I sigh, remembering that I work tomorrow.
“Just probe already.”
The centurion realized they were doomed
surrounded by barbarian hordes
Not his choice, being sent to Germania
To die on foreign soil, in this supposed adventure
For the Glory of Rome and Gaius Cornelius Tacitus
He marked the time on his Rolex
The professor was wrong
Time travel… really sucked
Being alone was the least of his worries. Looking out at the void, the emptiness was hypnotic, enticing him outside.
His crew was sadly gone and two years remained until his arrival. “But who will need rescuing by then?” he thought.
He switched the ship to autopilot just in case.
The procession stomped past, kicking up red sand. Participants dressed in blue and green, holding banners in remembrance of Planet Earth, singing old songs.
Annie squeezed her grandmother’s hand.
“Nana. What are we celebrating?”
“It’s been fifty years since we had to leave,” she replied, gazing at the empty sky.
Finally
Last drop of oil
Last chunk of coal
Fracking halted
Pipelines dismantled
Warming stopped
A healing earth
Cheap power for all
He climbed into his all-electric
Entered the coordinates to the Zero Carbon Celebration
Sat back for the ride
The first solar flare hit
And all hell broke lose