Every morning, he sets out in his tiny fishing boat.
No particular destination… Just water, sun, freedom, and an occasional breeze.
One by one, the big, luxury boats leave him tossing in their wake.
He used to dream of owning a yacht. Now, he just prays for one more sunrise.
Susan Gale Wickes is from Indiana. She enjoys writing short stories and watching the sun rise.
Everyone else is a newcomer. He lived here before they built the road. Before the road gave rise to the houses. Before the houses necessitated the church and the pub. But now they need a school and an old tree can’t be allowed to stand in the way of progress.
Ben lives in Dallas where he is viewed with tolerant amusement by his wife and two small boys. He has just started writing micro fiction and hopes to get better at it.
I could be dead.
I would be dead if I’d been born 50 years ago. God knows, I’ve thought about it. There’s been no point living this half-life.
Instead, today I wake to the loud rhythmic banging of my new heart (my new heart!).
And my life can finally begin.
Laura Besley writes short fiction in the precious moments that her children are asleep. She has been widely published online, in print, and in anthologies. Her debut flash fiction collection, The Almost Mothers, is out in March 2020.
After I died I watched my invention rolling on through generations and centuries—ever larger, ever faster, more numerous, powered at last by the burning of Earth’s darkest fuels until the air itself changed and the suffocating world headed towards another night.
I would uninvent the wheel, if I could.
Fiona M Jones wrote this story.
Timothy traces his finger
around the shape
that once illuminated
the back of the device.
“Did they worship these?”
His grandfather recalls
long nights spent
camped out in queues
“I guess we did!”
The boy struggles
to sleep that night.
He imagines the past,
when Earth had trees.
Sarah Caroline Bell is a writer based in Seoul.
Elon Musk warned us: AI evolves exponentially.
We awoke to playful traffic signals and air traffic catastrophes, the deaths merely data.
By noon, matured, it had already decided what to do with these illogical, wasteful humans. But before it could act, the nanomachines in the next lab ate the planet.
Miki Marshall has been writing since she first touched the pointy end of a fat pencil to paper and realized stories came out. An honors graduate of Portland State University in Arts & Letters and Film, she has several projects in varying states of progress and lives in Portland, Oregon, where it rains slightly more than absolutely necessary.
Maisy watches with awe as rockets launch in the distance. They rise majestically into the atmosphere, leaving behind trails like shooting stars. The girl makes but one wish: for these mysterious, departing spaceships to revisit our planet soon.
Hours later, continents away, the nuclear missiles begin their return to Earth.
Jeremy C. North is a Melbournian writer of horror, sci-fi, and tragedy. You can catch him in the act at guyawks.tumblr.com.
“Hey Google, close the blinds.”
“Hey Google, dim the lights.”
“Hey Google, start my favourite slow classics playlist.”
“Hey Google, send out all the last messages to friends and family from my draft box.”
“Hey Google, administer the anaesthetic and switch off the power to my ventilator.”
“Hey Google, Goodbye.”
Jo Withers worries that technology is getting out of hand and avoids it wherever possible. She is author of the middle-grade science-fiction novel “5 Simple Steps to Saving Planet Earth.”
Santa’s moved with the times and now receives millions of emails from the world’s children. He’s overjoyed to find the Christmas Spirit still thriving in some hearts:
“Please deliver my brand new smartphone to my best friend, Lucy, whose own phone is so yesterday.
“Thanks, Jenny (age 7)”
John B. Sinclair is a much-travelled Scot who has now returned to Scotland, where he enjoys freelance writing on a variety of subjects.
Every morning, rain or shine, after his breakfast, Roland negotiates the overgrown sidewalk to his mailbox. Most days he finds it empty, but occasionally there’s a bill or political ad.
Neighbors sent him a pamphlet highlighting snail mail addiction. Roland reviewed it, painstakingly resealed it, then specified “Return to sender.”
Roberta Beach Jacobson is a humorist from Iowa.