Recent Stories
By the time the government released the Alien for public consumption, he was already famous. Over the next several months--as he traveled, appeared on talk shows, at universities and public forums--his notoriety continued to grow. During this time the world through which the Alien moved was one of affirmation, ceremony and celebration: elegant parties, the finest food and wine, rides in limousines and flights in private jets. And always a rush of friendly words and smiling faces.
Welcome everyone. Mr. Speaker, Mr. Secretary, Knight-Senators, honored warfighters, fellow citizens. Before I begin with my opening remarks, I would like to lead everybody in the pledge of allegiance.
"I pledge allegiance, to the flag, of the United States of Vespuccia. And to the empire for which it stands, and to the cannon that we uphold, and to the God that we serve, one nation, one people, one king and one purpose, of security and justice for all."
You know the story. Everybody knows the story. The spinning wheel, the hundred years of sleep, and the eventual awakening by true love's kiss. Except he definitely wasn't my true love, and it wasn't actually a kiss--I still wake screaming at night when I dream about his body on mine.
Most people don't remember the children. Aurore has my golden curls, while Jour shares his father's raven-colored hair. Their skin is the palest green, like the undersides of new spring leaves; it is only to be expected, given the fact that their father is half-ogre himself. Their teeth, thank God, are normal.
A suited figure careens past the observation deck and slams onto the main galley, hydraulic joints hissing and buckling as they absorb several kiloNewtons of force. Mag-boots allow the creature to walk at an angle parallel to the horizon, like some cosmic deity. Light blooms behind it, and small, dark silhouettes reveal the outlines of the final evacuation shuttles.
The huddled passengers look past it in horror. Numbering less than two thousand, pathetic, confused, and reeling in shock, they take no notice of the approaching figure, their eyes instead affixed to the conflagration below that marks the death of everything they have ever hated or loved.
Mother told me that she wrapped me in black plastic wrappers when I was born into our building. That wrapper was flapping on one of the window frames for a long time. She begged all my fathers to get the plastic for her, only one agreed. She told me that she is almost sure that man is my biological father.
Everyone knows to fetch something tied to the window was an outrageous operation. You are not supposed to hang yourself outside of the building. You either stay in your building or you half crawl and half jump to another one when your building tilts. There's no in-between. If you fall to the street while dangling on the window and don't die immediately from the unthinkable impact, crying foxes on the streets would come out and make sure they devour every inch of your existence in this world.
by Bruce Boston
Published on Nov 21, 2019
by Thomas Carey White
Published on Nov 20, 2019
by Jenny Rae Rappaport
Published on Nov 19, 2019
by Connor R. Smith
Published on Nov 18, 2019
by Claire Leng
Published on Nov 15, 2019
by Zack Conley
My name is Corey Jones...
My name is Ravyn Merlo...
Published on Nov 14, 2019
