I try to write as many short stories as I can. I find it oddly soothing to create and live in an imagined world. But most of these were written in an hour or two, weren't proof-read in any way, nor screened for quality, so don’t expect much.
The wingtip grazed the water's edge as it banked around the outcrop, a group of grazing long-necked creatures watching idly from on top. The ship leveled its huge chromium wings and settled parallel against the lake, its surface shimmering in the evening light from the planet's twin stars. The ships silent ion thrusters left a gentle mist of pearlescent vapor in its wake.
Alma was lost in a daydream. The tiny water droplets flashing in the her aft display reminded her of the crowds at the raceway on Plaaden - a sea of euphoric spectators, their cameras flashing, desperately trying to capture the colorful blur of hypersonic ships racing through the physically impossible bends of the course.
"When can we fucking eat?" shouted Rolan from across the kitchen, his war-torn face providing me with the slightest of smiles, so I knew he wasn't serious.
"You wanna come up here and make your famous family sauce? Oh, that's right, you're an orphan". The smile faded from his face. For a second he looked genuinely angry, then we both burst into laughter.
She laid back and rested her head on the damp fall leaves. The deep embers of the dying campfire glowed in her tired eyes as she stared up at the distance stars. "Do you think that's where we go?" she said without turning her head. "Where we go?" I said. "When we die" she answered, with a gentle sigh only I could notice. I looked up to the stars. "I hope so. I'd like to back to where it all started" I replied. "Wouldn't you?".
She didn't answer. Her eyes were closed. Even with the space between us, I could tell from her breath she was falling asleep. I wondered then if we would make it. We'd been going for so long but somehow it all felt so empty lying there on the edge of the lake. She felt so far away.
The chain-linked fence finally gave way to the weight of the crowd. The worshippers at the front fell fowards, trampled by the force of those behind them. The bodies piled up further as those that made it to the top were pulled back down by the grasps of those behind them. On and on this went. The unrelenting and endless crowd desparate to see it with their own eyes.
Alma stood far back from the crowd, breathless from the journey, atop a half-destroyed house on the edge of the crater, looking down on the chaos. Watching and waiting.
"Are we lost?" Lei said, eyes gazing up at me. She looked tiny with that huge pack on her back. This isn't the place for an eight year old.
"No honey, we're not" I lied. We'd been lost for days. His trail had gone cold just after we left Manraa City. But I know her father was out here somewhere among the night dunes.
The lake shimmered in the midnight twilight. Her boat cut gently through the water, leaving a wake reflecting the patterns of starlight behind her. The lake appeared to stretch endlessly in each direction.
Her hands dangled over the edge as she laid down in boredom, her fingertips lightly glancing the water, the light of distance stars in her eyes.
The whip nearly hit me. At least it felt that way. But of course it can't cross the barrier. Nothing can.
To my right, Jorgan looked down at the arena with a vacant stare, his long knotted hair pulling towards the gravity orb that contained the arena. He looks so different now. Beaten down. I'm sure I did too. We all did. A lifetime on this rock will do that to you.