Fictional Worlds

Author: Sean MacKendrick Ava touched the seam where Ethan’s robotic foot joined his shin. She stared up at her grandfather in awe. “Can you feel anything with it?” Ethan forced a smile on his face. “Some basic sensory input. It helps me walk better when I can feel the ground.” “You’ve had it for a […]

Anna Lea Jancewicz Once, there was a boy who swallowed a bee. His mother told him not to do it. She wrung her hands like threadbare dishrags and keened, but he didn’t listen because sometimes littl…

I got the message that you are dead, and on your way out to me. I know.  You wanted it to be a surprise. But Marcie continues to send me regular updates about everything you say and do.  Or by now,…

The Womanly Art of Drag Racing, short story by Anna Lea Jancewicz

Daily Science Fiction is an on-line magazine specializing in science fiction, fantasy, and everything in between. A new story is published every weekday and sent to subscribers via e-mail, and stories appear a week later on dailysciencefiction.com.

Doctor Spencer has brought me an artist. My eyes on the outside of the building register the identity of everyone who enters, including her: Suzanne Chantal Salinas, age 26…

The video stutters at the eighteen-second mark. Yakova knows by heart precisely when it happens. As she watches, she mouths the words along with Autumn. “So this girl just, like, opens up her bag…

Engineer’s meat wept and squirmed and wriggled inside her steel organ cavity, so different from the stable purr of gears and circuit boards. You couldn’t count on meat. It lulled you with its warmth…

Gab gripped her right wrist with her left hand at the small of her back. “Are we ready to order?” she asked. The couple set their menus down on the brushed steel tabletop. It wobbled slightly.

When he first approached me in the train station, I batted him away. I thought he was homeless. The weird, ellipsoidal neck tattoos creeping into view from his collar didn’t help. He persisted…

The domovoi is protecting them. Sofiya knows this, even as her mother’s dismissive remarks prod the fireplace like skewers. When the flames burn to embers and the ashes in the fireplace thicken…

Author: David Dumouriez THIS IS NOT A DRILL! REPEAT: THIS IS NOT A DRILL! Lieutenant-Commander Rane had received the warning minutes before the alarm sounded. The destiny that nobody wanted was hers. It was happening on her watch. Eight distinct generations of ‘peacekeepers’ had been trained and deployed at Station 48 without any sign of […]

This week, discover why the wording in a certain Request For Proposal is exactly that specific, with this story from Sara Ryan ~ Julian and Fran, July 16, 2023 RE: REQUEST FOR PROPHECIES AND QUEST FUNDING APPLICATION GUIDELINES by Sara Ryan General Guidelines

Author: Julian Miles, Staff Writer The clearing lies deserted in the last light of the moon. Amidst the silver glow, two indistinct figures flicker into view, sat on the weathered altar stone at the centre. Of the two, the smaller is clearer, appearing as a pale woman with translucent butterfly wings. The larger is greener […]

A short story by Malon Edwards

Author: Philip G Hostetler Maggie’s been gone for a while now. But not into a black hole this time. Normally she’d discorporate into the metaphysical unknown but this time, she’s just been… …happily traveling. I miss her, like a solar system misses it’s rogue planetoid, flung out beyond and returning every 4,000 years as a […]

It's so dark. Black-orange-bloody-bruised. Flashlights throw long beams across the sand. Police lights flicker blue and red, blue and red, blue and red, and the Ferris wheel on the pier glows an obscene neon. No one thought to turn off the calliope. It echoes off the empty boardwalk, cheerfully macabre.

A Jar of Malice By Gregory Marlow 1982 The morning light woke me as Mamaw slid in through the front door carrying a small flour sack. Mamaw’s couch was made of Brillo pads that left crinkle imprints on my cheeks as I peeled away from the cushion. I had kicked my quilt and pillow onto […]

It’s tough being a monster nowadays. With the constant threat of terrorism, global warming, and yet another Michael Bay film, the average person just doesn’t have enough fear left at the end of the…

Author: Daniel Aceituna The new AI phone app used the latest research in non-linear regression to predict the future. Local data combined with GPS and relevant global data was all it took to give a remarkably accurate prediction of what would happen within the next minute. One billion downloads occurred in the first week alone. […]

“The Invention of Clouds” by Becky Mandelbaum I was ten years old when I invented clouds. I did it for my little brother, who was sick at the time and had nothing better to do than study how the light lived and died outside his bedroom window. I had invented a spider for his windowsill […]

An AI car is caught between its ruthless employer and the people she hurt…

Speculative Fiction Without Distraction

Making this so I don't have to crash my Steam browser by visiting Fandom when I want to look up a recipe. Information with getting some of the rarer crafting materials in some of these is included

Muna shuts the storeroom door as quietly as she can. Holding a just-waxed bundle of letters to her chest, she sticks out her head to check the bookshop floor. If she walks between the shelves on the far right, she can slip out unnoticed in ten heartbeats. The main door of the bookshop is propped open, the sun shining after what feels like a year of sodden clouds and sludged streets---she can’t wait to feel its warmth on her skin.

The backdrop of the greatest concert performance of all time was catastrophic solar behavior that devastated the Tau Ceti system in 4032, knocking the technology of the three inhabited planets to the stone age and putting fourteen billion sentient beings in peril. Of course the news swept the United Systems and generated an outpouring of grief, support and promises of aid, but promises fell short and soon people moved on to other stories.

I'm sure there was a vision. There had to be, as that's the whole symbiotic exchange. It’s how Mother worked her fortunes. While the syopterae feed on our smoke-saturated brains, we go to Tera. We experience visions there. Past or potential futures. I don't remember one that first time. I do remember Mother wiping the streaming tears from my eye, her own dead eye darting fish-like and upside-down as she bent over my face.

Maribel had not spoken of that day in the thirty-eight years since it had happened. But she thought the pig-boy deserved to know what would happen. “When they pronounce him guilty,” she said, “Father Domingo will come and get you. He will want you to pray at the shrine of Saint Rafael for the power of transmogrification. He will tell you the words to use. Then he will take you to the village square. Everyone will be gathered and the man tied up there. You’ll make the man swallow a cup of something and command his devil to take the form of a javelina.”

Author: Mina ALENA’S ADOPTED MOTHER, CAROL: We consider ourselves blessed with our adopted daughter. It hasn’t always been easy – we had to teach her not to stand out. It’s hard to dim your light, but she understood by the age of three that she would be taken away from us if her gifts were […]