The following story is from If They Were Real; and describes interactions among Humans and Trolls.
Mr. Brown pulled the collar of his coat up in an attempt to stop the rain from blowing in between his coat and hat and trickling down his neck. His other hand was clutching his hat to keep it from blowing off, but that led to water running into his coat sleeve and down his arm. He hated being in this part of town, and on a dark stormy night like this he hated it even more. He had a mind to turn around and go home. But he didn’t.
He stepped into a puddle and cursed the rain again, now he was certain there was not a dry part of his body left. He trudged another two blocks before he reached the old stone building where the meeting was being held tonight. He was told to knock on the basement door near the back of the building. It took another five minutes stumbling in near total darkness before he found a stairwell and descended.
Continue reading “The Troll Union”
If it had not been for the research of Doctor Gindeah the human race would have become extinct a thousand years ago. Because of him humans can photosynthesize from the earth’s resources, just as plants did in our ancient world before plants became extinct.
Continue reading “A Dystopian Glimpse of the Future”
Carlotta selected a bottle of wine and carefully injected the poison through the cork with a long slender needle. She sometimes endangered an innocent with her methods; but she always got away with murder. That was not a word she would use; she was an assassin. The act was assassination of political enemies, not murder. She was known by both friend and foe as the Snow Queen; the woman with ice for a heart.
Continue reading “Getting Away With Murder”
Nedra looked up at the pale sky which now had a tint of yellow. “Oh drat, not another storm!”
She wasn’t talking to anyone in particular, and if asked would deny that she was talking to herself. The conversation continued. “Another interruption and I wanted to get back to the city by early next week.”
She looked at the readings on her drill and hit the switch. It whirred into action pulling up a long thin core of earth. She packed it into a sample bag, tagged it and loaded it into her rover. The process took nearly a half hour. By the time she looked up at the sky again, the horizon looked a dirty mustard yellow and the canopy overhead was now a darker version of the mustard. She dug through the back of the rover and pulled out a heavy jump suit and jacket, which she donned quickly. She strapped an oxygen tank to her back and finished the ensemble with the connecting facemask.
Continue reading “The Gas Storm (scene 1 of unfinished novel)”