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.
“Start the main engines!”
“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.”
Penny Jo McAllister writes fantasy and has never left Earth.
Out in Jupiter orbit, Langdon woke, his panicked breathing echoing through his space suit.
A nearby helium miner picked up his SOS. Their medic examined him; traumatic amnesia, she said. They began the journey back to Callisto base.
Inside his body the creature stirred, sensing the presence of new prey.
Bill lives in Aberdeen, Scotland. A cadre of monks maintain the chant, keeping the nightmares trapped in his head. If they should falter, then the whole universe would tremble…
My owner greeted the receptionist behind the counter and set my kennel down on the waiting room floor.
I pressed my nose against the bars. This wasn’t the veterinary clinic. Where―
“Welcome to Sepsihso Minor,” a mechanical voice crackled on the loudspeaker. “Veloroqi Sector LNQ4. Human Adoption and Dropoff Shelter.”
Christopher A. Jos is a teacher currently living in Alberta, Canada, and is a self-professed fantasy and science-fiction junkie going back to his early teenage years. You can visit him at https://christopherajos.wordpress.com, or find him on Twitter
Of unknown origin, the Strangers became our saviors. War, famine, plague—ended. Progress happened swiftly, and society flourished.
No one noticed the changes right away; they came slowly, like a creeping fog. Four hundred years made us complacent.
By the time we realized they were gone, it was too late.
Sean Fox is a New England native living in California. He holds a B.A. in English from Western Connecticut State University. When he writes, people tend to die.