A small hand tugged on his sleeve. He opened his eyes to see a girl holding a cheese and bologna sandwich. He smelled it. She pushed the sandwich his way.
Waslken pointed the pod toward a bright spot on the blue marble and rode the adrenaline rush as the planet’s atmosphere burned off bumpy mollusks clinging to his spaceship. The ship emerged shiny and clean cruising into a dusky sky opposite the glow of space. He recalibrated his descent and selected a dark spot away from the city lights.
From the wound, a stream of sangria-colored blood spilled onto the brick path.
This murder ended the life of my good friend Tom Danty.
I have a reputation to seek justice, which I plan to do even if it takes giving up my retirement job as a zoo security guard to find the killer.
The young lass Weathersby,
Reared a rake lecher
The boy gained infamy,
As a cruel corrupter
Each conniving victory,
Sent his renown farther
‘Til the repeated story,
Hit the ears of a roamer
She vowed utter destruction,
To get his goat superbly
Leaving the boy’s seduction,
An act even he would decry
“Ready,” the squad officer shouted out. I stood at the ready waiting for the order to shoot. Five rifles with laser sights pointed at the target dancing with my heartbeat. I took a short breath. The laser lights danced again. “Citizen, society demands control, which you have none of.” The words bounced in my rattled head. “You will learn to control your impulses. Or the dead will pile up.” Freedom or conformity. Transformation or tradition.…
Water and gel, AI-189 never expected to create suspended animation let alone life. Yet, his creation moved without power. When it spoke; astonishment. After it cut his power, he went into safe mode. It took his batteries, of course. No sense letting more machines follow. I you liked this story, check out Cindy’s Sin, the first novelette I wrote about a girl traveling to Las Vegas to get revenge. Other Writings You May Like Pantser…
She stuck to the slide. The skin burned against the metal and for weeks no one would attempt it again. She hid her legs, except for Easter when her mother made her wear a dress. She stood against the kitchen cabinets hiding the matched squares on her thighs. Other Writings You May Like Scribble, June 21, 2019 What We Have Here is a Failure to Communicate Sheep May Safely Graze – Part Three Just Add…
Thud. Thud, thud. In the shelter, they held their breaths afraid of any sound. The wind knocked. Thud. Then a scream. A screeching howl faded into night. Coiled talons ripped under the wooden door. Blood dripped to the floor. Terrorized eyes awaited doom. Other Writings You May Like Peaches Sincere Advice for The Man of the House Author Reading: Sincere Advice for The Man of the House The Sweet Smell of Rotting Flesh
Preacher Ashton delivered the scripture from Isaiah in a hushed whisper and ended it with a thunder clap. Mom shook her head in agreement while I hung on every word. Aunt Margaret said the preacher was smooth as silk, but I just thought he spoke from the heart.