The day I headed to Jupiter was a fine spring day. I’ll never forget my euphoria of anticipation and the fine sense of adventure as the blue Earth shrank behind me, our galaxy’s most beautiful jewel, full of dreams and life.
Too bad it was gone when I came back.
Sandra Siegienski enjoys writing science fiction/fantasy and young adult fiction. Her focus ranges from novels to six-word story contests.
Titan’s reflection on the spaceport’s panels reminded Gillian of a squeezed orange over monochrome tableware.
“Earth awaits.” The Captain pointed at the shuttle’s hatch. “I’ll retrieve artefacts and Corinthian marble. You?”
The once-Blue Planet had nothing left but ocean-ravaged megalopolis, a hunting ground for nostalgic souls.
“Seashells and broken hearts.”
Russell Hemmell is an alien from Mintaka snuggled into a (consenting) human host. Recent fiction has appeared on Aurealis, The Grievous Angel, New Myths, and elsewhere. See more at earthianhivemind.net and @SPBianchini.
The neon flashes.
I wobble slowly and try not to puke.
People are fast asleep and so I watch all alone.
Steel cut, razor-sharp edges softened by alcohol.
A smell of rats and fetid waste.
Stars in the sky shine above the silent city.
As if nothing has gone wrong.
Henry lives in the UK. Sometimes he thinks too much. Sometimes not enough.
On gravitational waves, the primal gods sailed through the interstellar gulf. Their destination: a blue-green world where once they’d lived as kings, exalted by the apes they had uplifted. Memories of Atlantis, Giza and Nazca filled their minds.
The Masters of Earth were returning; let the children submit once more.
Bill lives in Aberdeen, Scotland. He spends his spare time working on his time machine, determined to fulfil his ambition of one day becoming his own father. His mother is adamant that it’s not going to happen. Family meals are currently quite awkward. See more at northeastnotesblog.wordpress.com.
No one knows why color disappeared. Leaves browned. Flowers faded. Clothing looked washed-out. Even blood turned beige.
My son’s never seen a sunset, only gray skies.
The last green shoot attracted longer lines than the Mona Lisa. When I took my son to see it, he scrunched his nose. “Gross.”
Hannah Whiteoak is a freelance writer and poet from Sheffield, UK. Follow her at @hannahwhiteoak.
they are going to vote ‘guilty’
and she refuses to believe
the new procedures are fair
nervous as she ascends the podium
unfolding her statement – she is not
convinced that bias has been eliminated
a dozen people deliberating in a room
is better than
a million poised behind smartphone screens
Note: Now read the story from the last line through to the first!
Alanah Andrews is an English teacher in Australia. She is the author of “Beyond,” A Short Story Collection of twisted tales, ghosts, aliens, murder, and “beyond.” You can follow her at facebook.com/alanahandrewsauthor.
T-minus ten seconds.
Six.
Five.
“Start the main engines!”
Two.
One.
Zero.
“We have liftoff!”
The crew has been training for this event for a millennium. They will be heroes.
The planet is in sight—only a few more minutes. Their mission: overthrow.
Destination: the third planet from the sun!
Jody Kish lives in the country, and loves to write stories and poetry.
The stars twinkle. I remember when you pointed at the one you wanted to go.
My tablet beeps. A message from “somewhere in Virgo,” you say. Sent fifteen years ago.
I wonder if I should I bother replying. It’ll take longer than fifteen years to…
Clutching the tablet, I type.
Joey doesn’t even have a tablet but he can be messaged at joeytoey.com.
“Humanity’s greatest adventure: a footprint on Mars. We had enough to survive, but not, it turns out, to live. The rot was in our souls, sick for home, for green. Darkness took them one by one. Only I remain, marooned, looking to the stars for a final glimpse of home.”
Bill is from Aberdeen, Scotland. He is the end product of a centuries long breeding programme designed to produce the perfect human being. It didn’t work.
“Happiness is seeing Mars in your rear-view mirror…” sang Lorg as the planet disappeared from view. “Good luck colonizing that mudball!”
He turned on the vessel’s kitchen feature. Reaching for the hyperspace button, he hesitated and turned around instead. “I’d colonize an asteroid with Liya if she wanted.”
He sighed.
Penny Jo McAllister writes fantasy and has never left Earth.