The heat pressed down on them. Out the windshield the city turned into so much hot wax. Glass and concrete melted.
Everything happened at once. All Rachel remembered was running. And the heat. Like the sun itself was trying to catch her. Run, please, no, run! Continue reading Concealed
“So she is the one?”
A woman wearing red leather pants ducked in the apartment building.
Revmondo glanced at Al. “Yep. Why? Nervous?”
“You’ve gone soft on this planet.” Continue reading The Double Agent
Benedict regretted the end of the chase. His quarry had run far and hidden well. Addicted to this reality, the challenge of his bloodsport, he focused instead on being rich.
He hopped the excrement-filled gutter, his pulse quickening. Ōschi. The rusted door shouldered aside, he drew his blade. Continue reading Out of the Corner
The walls shifted inward, squeezed against his shoulders. Twisted in solitary confinement, the artist couldn’t escape.
He frowned at the seedling that shared his doom. The yellowed note taunted, “Painting makes free.”
A bitter laugh turned to cries. Anguishing back spasms blinded him. Continue reading The Painter’s Doom
The cellphone rang then the TV flashed white, black, white again. Julius glanced up at the TV as his phone rang a second time. Without checking, he lifted it to his ear. Continue reading Waterwalkers
This morning is cold, just above freezing. The precipitation is alternating between snow, sleet, freezing rain, plain rain, and whatever else Mother Nature can come up with. Not exactly what anyone wants to unzip the mummy bag and crawl out of their tent to find. There is no choice in the matter. We take whatever fate dishes out for us. Continue reading Heaven’s Gate
“Where did you live when you were twelve, Knovah?” his daughter-protege asked. They were standing on a transparent section of a moving sidewalk which spanned across the trees of the park below. The view below their feet was mostly obscured by the localized shower of rain down in the park. Continue reading Where Twelve
Eden was cruising through the nebula at half the speed of light. She was a Wanderer class starship – a fully self-sufficient, highly mobile, sentient, micro-world – that had flown the galaxy for 100 thousand years, precisely. For today was her birthday. She was braking hard now, gathering trace raw materials for the next sowing.
Things were progressing well, she thought. She would need to Continue reading The Travel Collection