SF Drabble #95 “Spawning Season”

We built the settlement just off a wide beach protected by a picturesque lagoon.

When the local turtle equivalent hatchlings started popping up on the beach one morning we were so excited… they were cute: six legs, soft shell. I absentmindedly wondered how they might taste.

The things that came up out of the ocean to eat them were huge, easily a half ton of blubber and tusk. We lost Franks and Tsao on the beach, and one chased poor Carrie Redding all the way up to the temp lab.

We’re planning on moving the colony away from the beach.

SF Drabble #94 “World Tour ‘32”

We were part of this whole cultural exchange program between Earth and Ksistisk. The trip was short, it’s not that far. They were great hosts, built a special mobile hotel suite and an enclosed stage for us, both with their own artificial Earth normal atmosphere.

The thing was, Ksistisk hearing is all high-frequency, so our music would have been largely lost on them. They decided to send the main mix through a pitch shifter, putting it through the Ksistisk’s PA system transposed two octaves up.

Weird thing is, after a while some of our songs actually sounded better that way.

Zombie Drabble #108 “Call Sign”

Bobby has four friends. There were more, early on, but most dropped off the air when municipal power finally died. Those who remain have solar, wind, some electrical source off grid.

Halley is set up the best, lots of juice and a year’s supply of food, but the perversity of the universe dictates that she be doing the poorest; Bobby and the others spend much of their time trying to keep her sane.

One day she will not answer, and Bobby will know she has taken to the bathtub with a razor, as she has threatened to so many times.

Zombie Drabble #107 “Party Games”

“How about that one?” Cyrus pointed. Amidst the sea of zombies in the parking lot, there was one that had been a skinny woman with dirty blonde hair. “The girl in the white tee. Can you hit her?”

Roy sniffed. “Probably. Yeah, I can probably hit her.” He took a moment, then wound up and threw. The balloon arced out and down and struck her in the shoulder, breaking apart with a splash. The zombie stumbled and moaned, seemingly annoyed.

They laughed. Then, Cyrus said plaintively, “I wish we still had gasoline.”

Roy nodded, thinking back to the fires. “Yeah.”

SF Drabble #93 “Duck and Cover”

We’ve had the big telescopes all trained on it since we first picked it out of the background. We should have seen it earlier, but we always expected an incoming alien ship to decelerate as it approached the Solar system… it should be coming at us drive flame first, brighter than any star.

This one is still under thrust towards us, flame occluded by the bulk of the ship, which is considerable. It’s not slowing, it’s still accelerating, and the math is clear: it’s going to hit Earth at about 1/2 c. Unless they change course. Here’s hoping they do.

SF Drabble #92 “Baby Boy Jones”

“Congratulations, it’s a boy. And if he’d been born on Earth, he’d weigh,” the nurse did some quick math in her head, “seven pounds six ounces. Oh, the administrator’s here!”

The new mother felt somewhat exposed with her feet still up and legs spread open, but the nurse quickly arranged the blue blankets to give her some dignity.

“Miss, there’s some press here,'” the administrator began conversationally.

“Press?” The idea was somehow worrying.

“Well, miss, first baby born on Mars and all that. ABC is offering to pay his first year’s air tax for pictures, and an interview with you…”

Fantasy Drabble #57 “Reclamation”

“We don’t let many of your kind down here.” The Dwarf said, as if to imply that he should be on his best behavior.

Swelteringly hot air rushed past them, up into the vents in the cavern ceiling: somewhere far above them that air must warm the great Dwarven halls. Below them: a river of glowing orange.

“We filter metals directly out of the magma. Easier than mining,” the Dwarf continued, “and inexhaustible: all the ore in the world will come through here, eventually.”

“Seems like cheating,” I observed.

“Ha!” he laughed. “Cheating who? Who else’s metal could it be?”

Fantasy Drabble #56 “Wedding Band”

We play continuously, now that all the partygoers are well liquored and dancing happily, one song becoming another in an endless medley. The guests have finished their overpriced chicken or steak, and now they laugh and twirl around the floor, hands joined, bodies brushing and then pressing into one another. They are having the time of their lives on this, their loved ones special day.

Soon, they will find they cannot stop: they are enslaved to our rhythms. They will tire, stumble, and eventually collapse to the ground, and when they do, then it will be our turn to dine.