Short Fiction
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My Dearest, NewEarth is the color of despair. I remember your dad’s postcards of the space station resorts and I thought everything would be bright cartoon. The walls are dingy, the floors dark with grease and neglect. I’m surrounded by other soldiers and I’m completely alone. I’m light years from Mars. But your arms are
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White as freshly laid snow the sky kissed the ice with a thin blue line. Silver pipelines carrying water snaked above the ice. Scarred orange hovertrains carrying workers and elements crisscrossed the pipes. On Harleys, Security Chief TwoAxes and Detective Hatchett waited at The Piper Junction entrance.“You good Axe?”“Why, we’ve worked with the Bureau on
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Myrtle stood quietly in the CSI office. The sleek gray walls were bare. Storage pods sat unopened. On a bare stainless steel table, there were a satchel. Myrtle turned to the lab tech, a 2000 Sutton model.“May I be of assistance, Chief TwoAxes?”“What’s your name?”“I am a Sutton forensic trained tech—““Please, what do you call
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Fresh as a newly washed linen sheet, Saturn’s moon displayed its white unsullied surface to her. Enceladus, Myrtle was entranced. Her heart beat faster and she turned to her son Django to see his reaction. The nine year old was asleep. Myrtle was tempted to brush the hair from his forehead but stopped herself. She
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“Hello I’m Erica Martin, welcome to Toil & Trouble. Are you currently in the province of Magical Enchantment?”“Yes.” The voice was timid. The client fidgeted in his Norte Dame sweatshirt and khakis.“So what brings you here, Eamon? Have you been in counseling before?” Martin asked.“No, this is all new to me. My people don’t really
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“Okay now open your eyes,” Eddie said.I uncovered my eyes, my stomach flip flopped with excitement. I saw a hideous beetle black eye staring straight at me.I screamed, “Arghhh what the everlasting fuck! Why don’t you know me at all! Get away.” I sprinted to my bedroom shaking. Eddie gave me a parrot.I hate birds.
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With a booming rhythmic whine, the washer had shimmied halfway across the basement laundry room. Sam raced downstairs to investigate the racket, falling halfway down. Cold sudsy water from the slop sink sprayed his face while he wrestled the white behemoth back in place. Dripping wet and black and blue, Sam knew he was a
circular staircase 