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.
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.
“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.
He swirled his spindly grey finger in the air before pointing randomly at the galactic charts.
“So where are we going for our vacation?” she asked, with bated breath.
He drew back his finger, revealing an isolated blue and green planet.
“Darn! Practice shot?” he asked.
“Practice shot,” she agreed.
Melanie Rees is an Australian author. She has published over 60 stories in markets such as Apex, Daily Science Fiction, Persistent Visions, and Aurealis. You can follow her on Twitter @FlexiRees or at flexirees.wordpress.com.
Circling Aldebaran is a small white star known as Thea. Some call it a planet. It is a refuge, a resting place, a respite where the white things can go to escape such that the black things might not destroy them.
This says nothing, of course, of the yellow things.
Kenny A. Chaffin writes poetry, fiction, and nonfiction and has published work in Mobius: The Journal of Social Change, Microfiction Monday Magazine, 365 Tomorrows, Speculative 66, James Gunn’s Ad Astra, 101 Word Stories, Star*Line and others. He grew up in southern Oklahoma and now lives in Denver where he works hard to support two cats, numerous wild birds and a bevy of squirrels. His poetry collections and other work are available on Amazon. Find more at kacweb.com.
First thing out was my suit. Next went my helmet, violently followed by my books.
She’d always had a good arm and a bad temper.
Obviously I’m next, which would be bearable if we were on Earth rather than a spaceship.
Well, at least I won’t hear her screaming anymo—
Joey doesn’t mind travelling through space even if there is a risk that she’ll blow him out of the airlock. You can visit him at joeytoey.com.
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 Sea of Tranquility made an excellent graveyard.
You can visit it any time, rows of delicately carved stone standing silent in the Earthlight.
It was surprisingly easy to set it up. A digger. A priest. A few vacuum-grown flowers.
Some people still doubt it was ever built at all.
William Shaw is a student, editor and amateur journalist. He is slightly obsessed with the moon. You can find him on Tumblr, where he writes haiku poetry about Doctor Who.
The five-person crew slept separately under strict orders. The sentence for co-mingling was death. Still, Annie and Louis persisted, furtive behind the commander’s watchful eye.
When the burgeoning beneath Annie’s spacesuit could no longer be ignored, Louis was summoned.
“You have a choice, Lieutenant. There isn’t enough oxygen for six.”
Clara Ray Rusinek Klein is bilingual in Spanish and English. She holds a BA magna cum laude in Political Science with a minor in Religious Studies. Ms. Klein is an internationally published creative writer and author. For more information and a full list of current publications, see clararayrusinekklein.wordpress.com.
To our naked eyes, millions of pinpoints prick the night skies. They dazzle, dangling from immeasurable heights. We do not understand them.
But when our hearts resonate with theirs, they are a wordless fire, larger and brighter than anything on Earth.
The stars do not reveal themselves; we seek them.
Rhol Abisan is a a coffeeholic; a Lover of Books; a fan of J.R.R Tolkien; a Musician; an Artist In His Own Way; Melancholic yet Hopeful; a Treasure Keeper; a Wanderer but not Lost; a Follower of Jesus Christ.