 |
 |
|
~ Wasted Spaces ~ by T. J. McIntyre |
|
Days waste away on spaceships through times mundane and empty spaces unexplored. |
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
~ After the Storm ~ by A. David Zapata |
|
Six black coffins, wet with rain, open in chorus. Hunger provides the stimulus. |
|
|
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
 |
| |
Dear Son
by Charles Swallows
©2008
1st
Fiction Sale
Dear Son,
It is good to hear that you are having fun at space camp on Europa.
And your description of Jupiter dominating the sky is
mind-boggling. Your Mom and I wish that we were there with
you. Mom really enjoyed getting the ashtray you made for her
at camp. She’s using it as a planter.
But son, we received distressing starmail from Camp Director
Matthew about your recent field trips. Jason, you can’t go
cutting your classmates’ breathing tubes just to watch them turn
blue. Lucky for you that they were all moon born and are
adapted to the vacuum of space. And you can’t do swirlies on
the Venusian kid to see if his tentacles float. It’s just
not right. Behave or we will ship you to the Outward Bound
Camp on Pluto. You don’t want that, do you?
Be a good boy and write soon.
Love,
Dad
~ Charles Swallows, Florida ©2008
Charles Swallows is a professional engineer by training and
experience, and he enjoys writing as a hobby. He lives with his
wife, two dogs and two cats near the center of Gator nation in
Florida. This story is his first to be published and hopes that it
won't be his last. |
|
 |
|
 |
|
