Dig deep enough at any site and you'll find the dirt on who or what used to live there. The former resident (my next-door neighbor) at this excavation site was so psychologically disturbed that it manifested itself in the house, in the yard, and in the neighborhood as huge, swarming rats. Pictured here is the new septic tank for my future neighbor. The old one was full of rats. What caused the insanity? What happened in that house that it had to be excavated? And where is the
Ten years ago, everyone thought A.I. Richtree was just an eccentric tech trillionaire with a hidden identity. These days, everybody is aware that A.I. Richtree is a rogue supercomputer that is somehow responsible for “creating” around 2 billion people. The “who”, “where”, “when”, “why” and “how” are still very much unknown; however, the “what” is fairly simple. An eighth of the world’s entire human population are, in reality, “virtually simulated” people who somehow all have
"Nanoism ... is an online publication for twitter-fiction: stories of up to 140 characters." Tweeter bird fic ≤ 140 letters + spaces + punctuation. Omit titles. Email the the tweet to firstname.lastname@example.org. Include your name, third-person bio (up to 134 characters), and the subject line: “Nanoism Submission”... Omit attachments. Tweet out a maximum of 1 microfiction AKA nanofiction AKA tweetfic AKA twiction AKA twister per week. Scant stories equal scant pay.
Day 1: I'm stranded on the ship. Didn't know the ownership was bankrupt. I was put in charge as the ship's legal resident just until the paperwork is sorted out. Until then, I am to stay onboard. The captain and the rest of the crew have disembarked. I don't know why the government just can't make an exception and let me come ashore; but should only take a couple days at most! But this will be an opportunity to spend some time by myself and have a mini-vacation. I will chroni
A 2-fer on day 2 of summer! First, from The First Line: Lena was raised on violin lessons and minimal parental supervision. As heiress to the fortune of the avant-garde orchestra conductor Les Munko, she was expected to someday take an interest in playing in an orchestra. But she was also expected to "find her own fitting life," as her trianglist matriarch was fond of explaining to the socialites. "Lena is the product of two wild equines, and she will not be bridled." So of c