Fictional Worlds

Maggie's father disappeared in Strange Circumstances; her mother died watching reruns of Bonanza and Rawhide. And so begins the rocky road to fortune, success and romance, with a little help from a guy who claims he's an alien.

archived 7 Jul 2015 19:03:44 UTC

archived 24 Aug 2022 14:20:43 UTC

The pink frost coating my face shield is, evidently, my own blood. The gas jetting from the pea-sized hole in my wrist spins me around, and for a panicked moment, I wonder if I have somehow been shot. I think I am screaming, but that would alert Station, and Ocampo is silent. Evidently, I am holding my breath, only wanting to scream, like the nightmare of being on the wrong side of the airlock. Now the hissing has stopped and pain nails me to the ice.

Hello Senator. Thank you for returning my call. I’m so glad to speak to you at last. Yes, I did say in my message that this is a matter of life-or-death. It is. Absolutely. Oh, no---you misunderstand, sir. It’s not your life that’s threatened. It’s the life of a child. The life of your unborn child, in fact. First, congratulations are in order. I understand that Julia Banks, your former intern, informed you that she is pregnant. I believe that was just over a month ago. She’s just entering the second trimester.

archived 4 Oct 2019 13:28:28 UTC

archived 8 Sep 2019 18:42:09 UTC

archived 17 Oct 2019 20:45:05 UTC

archived 10 Sep 2019 12:35:42 UTC

Author: Samuel Stapleton I let myself in through the airlock and dropped down to the kitchen. She was on the couch. “Hey,” she said without looking up. The stream mumbled quietly into the backgroun…

archived 22 Oct 2019 12:50:56 UTC

archived 4 Aug 2015 13:12:35 UTC

Nell was skinny and wan. Her hair was brown, darkening to black, and her eyes were brown and sad. Henry did not understand why he loved her, for he had always considered himself a shallow man when it came down to it, with a head turned by shallow beauty and flashy teeth and eyes. Nell was a calm, dark pool. She was also probably the greatest artist of her generation.

archived 24 Aug 2022 13:52:56 UTC

I am dying of the war, though not in it. Such is the nature of wars. A person doesn’t have to die in battle to be killed by a war. A person doesn’t even have to be a soldier to die of one. Wars have always been slow killers as well as quick. The war […]

Author: Samuel Stapleton My brain was working faster than my eyes as I took in the flood of information through my augment hud at my desk. I quickly began realizing that whoever this person was, they were completely serious. I spent maybe twenty minutes having meltdown after complete meltdown, and then I shut everything off. […]

archived 5 Oct 2019 17:39:24 UTC

We have a history of missed connections, you and I. Years ago, when you called goodbye from the shuttle launch, my flight was landing in Zurich. I’d changed planes, been re-routed from Frankfurt. That’s why you got my voicemail. I’d have answered if I could, and would’ve wished you luck, even if you wanted a life without me. I never managed to see Europa, like you did—just Europe, where I met my first husband. The one I wished was you.

archived 5 Mar 2014 21:20:13 UTC

archived 10 Sep 2019 12:34:12 UTC

archived 18 Sep 2019 12:43:08 UTC