I cry out in pain. I hadn’t prepared for disconnect, and it shoots through me like an electric shock.
Archivist Marigold-Jay-359, reidentify.
Everything still hurts, and I’m crying a bit. “Z-Zophiella Raqib.”
Archivist Marigold-Jay-359, present three personal characteristics.
“I—” I’m not allowed to use the same ones two disconnects in a row. “My favorite food is pickles and cheese-toast. M-my Momma’s name is Dina. I… I want to dream someday.”
I shouldn’t have said that last one.
Read More“The Hollow Stars in Heaven” by Avery Kit Malone.
“Heaven is a dead place. It’s full of ghosts.”
Read More“Lazarus” by Anna Catalano
The sound of my teeth gnashing together echoes in the Pod as I force my way through the newest 10,000 piece puzzle. I’m only a quarter done, but I can already tell that it’s a postmodern piece of art by some guy no one really talks about anymore. …
Read MoreBode felt everything.
He could feel his legs shattered in different places. He could not move his hands,but could feel that they were there. His breathing felt like that of a drowning man—suffocating. He felt a searing pain that started within his legs and ascended into his brain….
Read MoreWhen I was six, I asked my mother, "Why don't we go out in daylight anymore?" while she sat by my bed at noon, way past my bedtime.
My mother laughed. "Why should we?" She stroked my hair, urging me to sleep so she could slip away to the job she was already late for.
Read MoreAt her feet, her old body is a mess. The chest is shattered open, ribs broken and upright, torn flesh gaping like a basking shark in the shallows. She grimaces, and then sets to work with a broom.
Read MoreRobbie stopped for a second, and looked at the wriggling thing. It was ugly, but he didn’t know it, being only made to understand aesthetic beauty—symmetry and color saturation and fullness, as it related to vegetation. This thing was smaller, something pathetic, though he couldn’t understand that either.
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