Category Archives: Fiction

Sow

Pilot’s Log
12 March 2130
Days to Deployment: 5

Infinity is beautiful. If you’ve never seen it, it would be hard for me to describe the breathtaking wonder of an endless void. Some might find the solitude disquietning, but I have come to take comfort in the isolation.

It gives me time to think.

They told me this mission would be simple. Long and mentally and physically taxing, but simple in its directives: Locate Planet X1506-78, Locate fertile terrain, Deploy and Dust terrain with panspermia capsules.

Simple.

I know what’s riding on this mission, what’s at stake. I feel the weight of hopes millions and millions of lightyears away.

Physically and mentally taxing. But, for me, I have come to see this mission as morally taxing as well.

Do we deserve to perserve our species? What right do we have to disrupt the natural evolution of an alien planet? Is life sacred or profane?

I do not have the answers to these questions yet.

Pilot’s Log
13 March 2130
Days to Deployment: 4

I spoke with my wife today. It’s just a room now, I told her. It’s time, I told her. You need to do this, it’s healthy, I told her.

It’s easy for me to say that. I’m not the one who has to remove the crib, the toys, the pictures on the wall. I’m not the one that will have to paint over all of those animals and their bright smiles and frolicking feet.

It’s just a room now. Walls and a window and a floor and a ceiling. It’s just a room as sterile and inhuman and indifferent as the white-walled hospital room with its machines and their beeps and hums and numbers on screens signifying a decline.

It’s just a room now. Just like it was just a body in the end. A tiny 14-month old body. It wasn’t even a body. It was a host. It was a tiny 14-month old cancer host.

It’s just a room. It’s just a body. It’s just a host.

Pilot’s Log
14 March 2130
Days to Deployment: 3

Is it better to have never been born at all? Given the unpredicatble nature of life, given all of the possibilities for pain and pleasure, given the uncertainty of the ratio of pain to pleasure, given the question of the duration of the pain, of the pleasure, of the act of being alive itself, is it a gamble worth taking?

Thought experiment: I come to you with a proposition to join a game. If you choose not to play the game, you lose nothing. Everything stays the same.

However, if you choose to join the game, there is no gaurantee as to how long you will play the game, how much pain or pleasure will come your way, and, most importantly, you have very limited agency in this game, your will is imposed upon by outside forces and is therefore not free.

Would you play?

Pilot’s Log
16 March 2130
Days to Deployment: 1

Hope is a strange concept, a strange bedfellow, a savage lover. The concept itself has become a little absurd and irrational and naive to me. What good is it to invest in something that’s wholly beyond your control?

Why has an entire planet of people placed their hope on me, on this mission, on these panspermia capsules?

To continue the human race? But what good does that do for them? They’re dead anyway. Is there really any comfort or consolation in the notion that our species will live on this foreign planet?

And do we deserve to? After what we’ve done on and to ours? On and to our own species? On and to every other species that we claimed dominion over?

And what about these capsules? Do they even want to start the long and arduous process of evolution to become something so staggeringly inconsistent as us?

So loving and hateful and compassionate and indifferent and charitable and greedy and peaceful and murderous and on and on and on and on.

Do they even want to play the game?

Pilot’s Log
17th March 2130
Deployment Day

This will be my last entry. I have made a decision, a choice, a commitment. Or I feel that it has been imposed upon me, so maybe I am not to blame for the consequences.

For poserity, in case this recording is ever transmitted: I feel that the moral course of action here is to self-destruct.

This will be a beginning just as violent and firey and random as the beginning of all things.

There will still be a chance for some of the capsules to survive and fertilize the terrain.

Those that fight to live will have made their choice. They will play the game, for better or worse or whatever.

Who will survive and what will become of them?

Hall

Running through surroundings that feel familiar and not-familiar, similar and strange, at the same time, there’s a weight that isn’t normally here, palpable, beckoning, eternal even, no that’s absurd, not eternal, but heavy nonetheless, it is real though, this weight as I’m running, tripping, falling, miscalulations that lead to missteps and I have to grab the wall to steady myself, hands slipping on picture frames of smiling familes that have people I recognize but don’t know, smiles that are somehow frightening, toothy and threatening, the frames slippery so I can’t quite get my grip, but inertia and momentum and an ineffable and inescapable fear prevent me from falling flat on my face, which I know would be distastrous, I know it, that falling would be disasterous, because I feel it and I feel it like a fact, not like a passing emotion, not like this fear that follows, my hands are wet and the soles of my sock-covered feet are damp, there’s a moisture everywhere here that doesn’t exist in the hall that’s in my house, even though that’s the hall that I’m running down, or it is but it isn’t, an abstraction, a concept of a hall, perhaps Platonic in its ideal, the condensation, humidity, a primeordial wet from the oceans we all walked out of, once, the oceans where we all dwelled before we could walk, before we could run, to run to reach some place, to run as play, to run to run, but I’m running away, from what I don’t know, but it’s there, this thing, behind me, I can feel a hotness on my neck, predator’s breath, our relationship, our positions, me in front and it behind, forever in tow, it’s inextricable, entwined, a predestined eventuality, inescapable, something that only our species is aware of, blessing, curse, Granny Smith knowledge, to be conscious of being conscious, an awareness of being aware, the finitude of it all, in the end, not-being is the goal, terrible, unimaginable, conscious of being conscious of not being able to comprehend infinity, ours is a limited set existence with no imaginary numbers, this I know as I run, and I know, no matter what, I know, no matter how I run, I know, that eventually, one day, on a date and time and place, perhaps this one, I know, that no matter what, I know, that whatever I’m running from, I know, it will catch me, I know this because I feel it, and I feel it like a fact.

Ambition

“I mean, they look alright.”

“Don’t they though? I had Narcissus in Quality Control give them a look.”

“Wait, what? You had Narcissus give them a look?”

“Well, sort of. I sent the final design sketches over.”

“And?”

“I haven’t heard back, but I kind of took it as a no-news-is-good-news-type situation.”

“I’m just not sure–“

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I asked Orpheus and Eurydice in Project Management for their thoughts too.”

“And?”

“Same response from both.”

“Which was?”

“They said, ‘There’s no looking back now, Icarus.’ Which, I also took as a good sign.”

“Yeah, but, I don’t think we should take–“

“Listen, Daedalus, I really think we’re good to go. Pretty much the whole organization is behind this flight.”

“The whole organization?”

“Yeah, Atlas said, ‘Hold it up, Ic.’ I think he meant hold it down, but he’s not really up on the lingo these days.”

“He could’ve been talking about–“

“It’s not just him, though! Sisyphus said, ‘Keep on keepin’ on.’ Which I took to mean all-systems-go.”

“Icarus! You know what he has to–“

“Listen, we both know we’ll never be 100% confident on this. Never. We both know that. So, there’s just one thing we have to ask ourselves.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Pluck

I know. I know there are things such as razors and electric shavers. I know these are things and that they exist.

But this is more than a morning routine to get rid of an unsightly five-o-clock shadow.

This is a transformation.

If I have to pick each one of these little bastard black hairs from my arms and shoulders and stomach and legs, then I will.

I will pluck and I will hurt and at times I will bleed.

You wouldn’t want to know somebody that’s never been through an ounce of pain.

When I’m finished, everybody will want to know me.

Brackets

In an effort to allay public concern and in commitment to this office’s pledge of transparency, we are releasing the following document related to the recent event.

———————————————————————

OFFICE OF [REDACTED]

Sometime between the hours of 2am and 3am on [REDACTED]/[REDACTED]/[REDACTED] in the rural town of [REDACTED], Mrs. [REDACTED], who was awakened at these hours to “attend to biology” (her words), reportedly saw through her bathroom window a strange light maneuvering in unusual ways.

After Mrs. [REDACTED] finished “attending to biology” (she was unwilling to provide any specific details as to how long this particular activity took), she ran to the bedroom to wake Mr. [REDACTED] because she thought it was an event he might be interested in, due to the fact that Mr. [REDACTED] having, on previous occasions, shown great interest in these types of phenomenons.

Sometime between the hours of [REDACTED] Mrs. and Mr. [REDACTED] walked to the front porch of their house in rural [REDACTED] to get a better view of these lights that were behaving in an unusual and slightly suspicious manner.

According to [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] [REDACTED], they were only on their [REDACTED] porch for [REDACTED] minutes or what felt like [REDACTED] minutes (they could not be sure) before the lights in the sky that are behaving in an [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] manner appeared to increase in luminosity, leading [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] [REDACTED] to conclude that they, the lights, were moving closer.

Shortly after [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] [REDACTED] became suspicious that the [REDACTED] were moving closure, an event took place to confirm that suspicion.

One of the [REDACTED] lights in the sky ceased moving and began to pulse. A bright white hot beam emanated from the [REDACTED] forcing [REDACTED] [REDACTED] to shield her eyes.

Once [REDACTED] [REDACTED] opened her [REDACTED] she notice that [REDACTED] [REDACTED] was no longer with her on the [REDACTED] [REDACTED]. And the [REDACTED] that were behaving [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] were also [REDACTED].

[REDACTED] [REDACTED] ran back in to the [REDACTED] and called [REDACTED] to report the [REDACTED] of [REDACTED].

Local [REDACTED] interviewed [REDACTED] [REDACTED] about the [REDACTED] of [REDACTED] [REDACTED]. They [REDACTED] her that they would [REDACTED].

In [REDACTED] days the [REDACTED] of [REDACTED] [REDACTED] was found in [REDACTED]. It had been [REDACTED] beyond [REDACTED]. [REDACTED] were used to make an official [REDACTED].

After the [REDACTED] of [REDACTED], the [REDACTED] of [REDACTED] were [REDACTED] for [REDACTED]. Since the [REDACTED] of [REDACTED], the [REDACTED] of [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED].

———————————————————————-

We can confidently assure the citizens of this great country that this is everything we know.

You are safe.

Coup

Outside

It was a strange sight to see. Almost surreal. The day itself was fine, almost perfect. A balmy 62 degrees with the sun lazily inching towards the horizon, slower than usual it seemed, as if it too wanted to see how this would all play out.

The weird part of it all was where it was taking place and the particular participants involved. In fact, before the whole ordeal was over, there would be six accidents from motorists rubbernecking in disbelief.

SWAT vans in the parking lot and in the after school pick-up line. Snipers trying to awkwardly steady themselves on the monkey bars, preparing for the worst-case-scenario. Officers in full riot gear, semi-circled around the entrance. Higher ranking officials pacing nervously behind them.

“Are we really doing this?” Captain Davies asked. “I mean, are we seriously considering this?”

“I think we might have to,” Lt. McConnell said. “The rules of engagement might dictate it.”

“Breaching?”

“Breaching.”

“Into a fucking middle school cafeteria?”

“I think we might have to.”

———————————————————————

Inside

The atmosphere in the cafeteria was somewhat calm, considering the circumstances outside. Sure, visually it was a mess. Chili dogs had been the lunch special. And every last bit of what had been served, prepped, and still-frozen was splattered on the floors, walls, small bits stuck to small sections of the ceiling.

Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Jenkins sat on the floor leaning against the serving line, hands tied behind their backs with makeshift hairnet-handcuffs.

“What in the fuck are we going to do?” asked Jeff Linely, pacing frantically as if to demonstrate that he obviously wasn’t in charge of the situation. “What in the ever-loving fuck are we going to do?”

“Just let me think!” Sam Kinson said. “I just need to think.”

Lacy Mathis and Karl Sandler huddled under one of the cafeteria tables. Considerably younger than Jeff and Sam, they were confused as to just how exactly they found themselves in this position. It was only Tuesday. They were both missing drama club, though they were sure it had probably been canceled. All things considered.

“This was a stupid idea,” Jeff said. “Just stupid. How in the ever-loving-fuck did you talk me in to this, Sam? How?”

“Talk you—talk you in to it? It was your idea, fuckface. Diversity of choice. Inclusion. What about the poor peanut allergy kids, you said. What about poor gluten-intolerant Lacy, you said. Talk you into. Fuck off, Jeff. Just fuck right off.”

“I didn’t mean this! I was just trying to look out for those that can’t look out for themselves. Lacy won’t speak up! Somebody has to. But I didn’t mean this!”

Lacy poked her head out and yelled, “My mom packs my lunch!”

———————————————————————

Outside

At this point, the snipers were well into the third round of a fierce bracket-based competition of chicken on the monkey bars. The officers outfitted in riot gear were swiping left and right (mostly right) on Tinder. This included all of the single officers and a few of those in fully committed monogamous relationships too.

“We’re going to have to make a decision,” Captain Davies said. “We can’t just stand here and let this turn into some type of Waco-esque situation.”

“Seriously. Waco?” Lt. McConnell said, rubbing his eyes. “But I see your point, the drama of that statement notwithstanding.”

“So? What’s the call?”

“The ball’s in their court right now.”

“They’re in the cafeteria, sir. Not the gym.”

“Captain.”

“Yes?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

———————————————————————

It wouldn’t take days and nights and the use of psychological torture tactics to end the standoff. They would be no fire. There would be no eventual breach and no casualties on either side. There would be no investigation, no books written about the subject, no documentaries,and no limited series based on the event on any of the many streaming services.

In short, it would not turn into a Waco-esque situation.

It ended peacefully and in such an uneventful manner that is not even worth writing about.

Two things did come out of the whole ordeal though.

1. The school board agreed, quickly and unanimously, to expand the offerings in the cafeteria.

2. Jeff and Sam learned that the food in juvenile detention could use some improvement.

Sister

I was worried after she told me. Small town in the south. I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t worried.

Truth be told, it took me a while to get used to using those pronouns too. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth.

“Just be careful,” I told her. And I hate myself for saying that and for feeling the need to say that.

I hate it for turning out to be true.

Most of the family were less than receptive. And I had to fight like hell. And they won’t talk to me anymore, a lot of them.

But the tombstone reads “Jackie” instead of “Jack.”

Because it should.

Mention

Kevin Murphy: It wasn’t supposed to be true. We didn’t think anything would happen.

Matt Murphy: Nobody believes us. Nobody. But it happened like we said it did. Just like we said. But nobody believes us.

District Attorney Powell: Are you kidding? That’s such a stupid question. Of course it didn’t happen that way.

Professor Clement: It’s an urban legend, of course. A folk tale. It’s pretty old and common in a lot of cultures, actually. And sure, a lot of these urban legends are rooted in fact. And then they grow from there to become supernatural, frightening, and deadly. They’re meant to warn us or explain something or teach a moral lesson. But they’re just stories. Metaphors. Allegories. Fables. In short, they’re pure fiction.

Matt Murphy: We heard about it from some kids in school. It was supposed to be a gag, for a laugh, a stupid little prank, you know.

Kevin Murphy: Scott was such a little runt. Afraid of everything. Everybody made fun of him. This was just one more thing. It was supposed to be just one more thing.

Matt Murphy: We didn’t want to hurt him. Nobody was supposed to get hurt. It was just a joke.

District Attorney Powell: I honestly don’t care what those two say. Somebody did get hurt. Scott Everette got hurt. Scott Everette is dead.

Kevin Murphy: It wasn’t us.

Matt Murphy: I swear we didn’t do it. We didn’t touch him. It was her.

Professor Clement: The urban myth in this instance is one I’m sure you’re all familiar with. It’s pretty common and has been for centuries, though it’s evolved over time, like most myths.

In the modern version, a group of people stand in front of a mirror in a dark room and invoke her through an act of captromancy. This means saying her name a specified number of times. It’s commonly 13 times, as you could imagine.

District Attorney Powell: Look, there were three people in that house in that bathroom on that night. Three. And two of them walked away still alive. Those are the facts.

Matt Murphy: The flashlight on our phones just went out. Scott screamed.

Kevin Murphy: There was so much blood. When our phones came back on. Scott was on the floor. So much blood. And his eyes. We never found them.

Matt Murphy: People say we ate them.

District Attorney Powell: I can’t answer that.

Kevin Murphy: On the floor. On the walls. So much blood.

Matt Murphy: The mirror, though, the mirror was spotless.

Kevin Murphy: I can’t explain what happened.

Matt Murphy: All we did was say a name.

Reliant

Some things start

Simply and

With good intentions,

Like with a computational machine

The size of an entire room.

Once let loose

,however,

They increase

Exponentially

And beyond

Our control.

And we never seem to ask

Ourselves one simple question:

Just because we can do this,

Does it mean that we should?

Diagram

—ing to be the day that it finally happens, that i finally open, my hands are shaking already, sweaty, forehead too, not sure if i can do this today, but i said that yesterday, but i didn’t think about it approaching the problem this way yesterday, or any other day for that matter, how long has it been even, i’m not sure, i supposed i could rummage through the newspaper room and look for the oldest issue, but that could take a while and i might not even be able to find it, it could be damaged by this point, depending on how long it’s been there, how long it’s been, plus the searching, taking all of that time to search, would just be an excuse to not go through with it today, or at least attempt to go through with it today, ok, so the system, first let’s go through the system, we’ll call this “1,” so first: is today the day we try the system, if “yes,” then we proceed to “2”, if “no,” then we go to “1a,” ok so “2,” is the date an odd or even number, if “odd”, then we go to “1a,” if “even”, then we proceed to “3,” but first let’s establish what “1a” is and what it means because that’s important on the days that we have to go to “1a” and can’t proceed to “3,” it will happen so we have to know what that means for us and our day inside the house, ok, ok, so “1a,” is the date a prime number, if “yes” then we go to “1a.1” and if “no” then we go to “1b,” ok, ok, that will work I think, no we’re creating this flow, ok so, “1a.1” means that we stay inside and watch pornography and “1b” means we stay inside and read the bible, ok so if “1a.1” there are things we have to decide here as well, so we need to iron out those decisions and possibilities, ok, ok, so “1a.1_1” is the digital or print question, so “1a.1_1” will be what kind of shirt are we wearing, if “buttoned” then go to “1a.1_1_1” which is digital pornography and if “not buttoned” then go to “1a.1_1_2” which is print pornography, and then there are questions and permutations and decisions we have to consider within each of those brackets, but hold on, hold, we need to consider “3,” right, right, we need to at least consider what “3” could look like before we go too far down the branches that only deal with staying inside, because that’s just too tempting and won’t help solve the main issue and that’s what we want to do, that’s why we’re creating this whole thing in the first place, is to solve the problem and open the door and step outside and man are my hands shaking and sweating and my forehead is too and now my armpits and is this becoming too much, no, this is important, ok so “3” is are the neighbor’s sprinklers on, if “yes,” then we’ll go to “4,” if “no,” then we’ll go to “1a” and follow that funnel, which we’ll get back to later, we have to get back to that later because it’s incomplete and leaves too many loose ends, but for now let’s focus on “4,” and if we’re at “4” that means that we’ve decided to try the system and the date is an even number and that the neighbor’s sprinkler system is on, that’s how we got to “4,” and what will “4” be, ok, ok “4” will be has the mail come already and if “yes” then we go to “5” and if “no” then we go to “1a,” which is still incomplete, but we’ll get back to that, ok, ok, we’re making progress, this is good, i feel good, i feel shaky and sweaty and now a little queasy but overall good, once this system is complete, once we have it all figured out, we can pick the day and that day will be the day th—