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Showing posts from January, 2020

Gravity Waive (Version 1)

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Written for the workshop Hindsight 2020. Assignment: write a story in 1,000 words or less. Original prompt was from YeahWrite #457, "The main character sees someone about to commit a minor crime. Do they use their superpower or not?"

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I was seven the first time it happened.

The summer sun warmed my back as I lay in the grass behind my house, kicking my legs lazily, reading Wonder Woman comics and wishing I could talk to animals like she did.

The peeping sound came from across the yard. I walked over to see what it was. A tiny baby bird, so young it barely had feathers, flopped pathetically in the dirt. Looking up, I noticed a nest on a tree branch ten feet above.

I’d heard that if you touch a baby wild animal, then its mom won’t take care of it anymore. I sat there and I wished that the bird could return to its nest. In my mind, I pictured it rising off the ground and floating back up there.

I blinked. The baby bird was two inches off the ground. Its little shadow lay on th…

Matters of the Heart

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Carrying bread and bacon from the kitchen, Glenys Brown grumbled. She set the platters on the table before her hungry boarders, wiped her hands on her apron, and rubbed her temples.

Henry Cadogan’s bright eyes watched her. “All right, Mrs. Brown?”

“It’s my head, lad,” she replied. “Pounding like a devil wants out. And me just run out of that headache tonic, too.”

“Shall I fetch you some more? I’ll pass by Mendoza’s on my way to the copper works.”

“I’d be grateful to you,” she said, pressing a coin into Henry’s palm.

James Howell grinned. “Any excuse to go to Nash Street, eh?” He socked Henry on the shoulder. “Have a look at Teresa?”

“Shut your hole, Howell.”

Vicente looked up. “Teresa? Teresa de Muñoz?”

“Can you blame our Henry?” laughed James, his mouth full of bacon. “He marries into that family, he’ll become a merchant, never touch another smelting furnace.”

“Teresa is a Catholic,” said Vicente. “She will not marry you.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Henry. Wiping his mouth on his …

Mt. Olympus, December 2079 (microfiction)

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Poseidon drew the short straw.

Hera sighed. “Yes, they’re irredeemable. But I’ll miss those buggers. Their bridges, computers, M*A*S*H... Genius.”

The trident swung. The floodwaters flowed. The underworld gained eight billion souls.

Hephaestus prepared the drafting table. “Okay. Humans 2.0.”

Aphrodite nudged Ares aside. “This time, I’ll design.”