Fiction

Two days after he died, the photo of my neighbor vanished. It had hung on my wall for years, right above the bowl where I kept my keys.

My wife and daughter fade away as the screen goes black. I toss my phone into the bin along with my ring, wallet, and keys. The receptionist pulls it away without looking up... As he turns back and begins to type, I think about work, about the traffic getting here, about Kaily getting her treatment today. Only six and having to spend so many days of her life in that specialty center. I need to thank Talia for taking her to all her appointments. She always thanks me for coming here, for getting us the extra money to pay for the treatments, but I never thank her for having to watch our daughter suffer discomfort.

It’s tempting to close off from this group of my starship mates and focus on the euphoria, but bootleg ego-entanglement is best done with eyes open. It takes about ten seconds to feel the first tingles, another ninety for full effect. The world vibrates around the six of us like we’re caught inside an enormous, scintillating dragonfly wing—instead of lounging in my battlecruiser quarters. Soon we are the wing itself.

The night Deren recruited Zoey to join the Alexendria’s then-four person crew, he brought her to the world’s most exclusive party. ... They stood in their hosts’ vaulted gallery, a room larger than Deren’s childhood home, lined with trophies in glass cases. Most of the world’s forty-odd Collectors were there, viewing the displays while they felt each other out for information and sipped wine from varietals that couldn’t be found anywhere else on Earth and weren’t mentioned in any history books. They were all competitors, but only their competitors and the Alexandria’s crew could appreciate what it was they did.

Our church's office administrator, Tatiana, is intimidating, which most days protects me from the weirder folk that come looking for clergy. Except for today's visitor. I know: “weird” is judgmental. I do believe that I am called to love everyone, no matter how…“different”. But when I get tired, my love wears thin.

Lisa smiled thinly, looking down at the tendrils of vapour rising from her cappuccino, while floating words appeared in the space just above her head. The bulky, capitalized words were invisible to anyone but Terry. He sighed, and they flared in size.

Did a UFO crash into the interstate? Is a nanite swarm consuming and assimilating all electronics, including batteries, alternators, and starters? Did a rampaging Ultra Rex carve up the asphalt? Doesn’t matter! Well it does, actually, but the carpool isn’t coming either way.

The Lunar Module hatch popped open. Leonard’s boots emerged sole-first as he crawled backwards onto the egress platform. The sun glared against the black velvet sky just above the S-band dish atop my full-scale replica Eagle. Earth was in half-phase to my left, over the long-abandoned ruins of the spaceport. About a dozen or so tourists in tightsuits sat in the bleachers.