short story

Life begins as the ending meets #poem

Life begins as the ending meets

Long forgotten stories of Earth’s bosom,

Clouds roll over abandoned streets


Burned sunlight refracts and the crust overheats

Gone beyond the last season, descendants of the issam

Life begins as the ending meets


Overhead atmospheric trap door to the planet’s oubliettes

Ghost gardens fill the sidewalks with forgotten alyssum

Clouds roll over abandoned streets

Extinct currency, forgotten in digital decomposed spreadsheets

Greed the downfall, possessions the blissom

Life begins as the ending meets

The planet resets the cosmic scales and ends those who mistreats

Too late humanity abandoned the acquisitiveness hymn

Clouds roll over abandoned streets  

Fires burn and oxygen depletes

Dreams abruptly stopped by cataclysm

Life begins as the ending meets

Clouds roll over abandoned streets.


#DeathsTeaParty #amwriting #snippit

“It worked! It bloody well worked!” grinning from ear to ear after nearly a decade and a half, Maboz had managed to link his physical room to her mind. He had managed to get it to work before but for some reason, he couldn’t get her there while he was there. This time was different. She looked just like the day he had met her, down to the narcissus flowers in her hair. She was a little older than the day in the hospital with her grandmother.

A moment of deep sadness overwhelmed him as he saw no recognition in her eyes.

Yet he couldn’t help himself he reached out to her naked form, started to speak to her, and kissed her cheek. Then everything went black.

Damn. It had been close. He wanted to talk to her he had to get back into that dream. As much as he tried it didn’t happen.

Morpheus had told him it would be difficult.






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#DeathsTeaParty #amWriting #snippit

The old woman was hanging on to her flesh with the same stubbornness as Nero. Death had come to collect her five times already. Each time she seemed to find another wind and the will to live on. However, her fear showed. She saw what she expected and wanted to see.

Maboz knew she saw a skeletal being dressed in a hooded cloak when she looked at him. The shroud that covered him each time he entered the room left him feeling a bit dirty. That particular mythos had started long ago and he had yet to dismiss that image from the mass consciousness.

The woman reeked of fear and when she looked at him she would pray to god to save her from the devil. Maboz was the being contracted to cross the woman over. The body would fail soon. He could smell it. He hated when this happened because when the transition occurred he usually had to walk them to purgatory or the hall of souls.

Those places were not where people were meant to go. Those were the constructs of fear. It saddened him that so many chose those places to reside. They could leave at any point in time, most chose to stay because the fear was too much to work past. Occasionally, a brave soul would wander out of the river of souls and approach him at his table to request rebirth or guidance. Those days were amazing. 

#deathsTeaParty #amwriting #

Slightly tipsy from the self-filling pitcher of beer and the two bottles of whiskey Maboz moaned, “Please, I miss her. I need to see her, to talk to her, “ pausing around a belch, “to touch her.”

Morpheus visibly shrank back, “I don’t like it but I want you to swear that you will take the fall if she gets pissed.”

“You have my oath. Brother, she will never know you helped me visit her.”

“Maboz, you owe me big for this one.”

“Fine I will play on your bowling team, but I’m not wearing the stupid shirt.”

A big grin formed on the Sandman’s face, “So you will wear the yoga pants?” 

“Oh shut up,” a belch followed by a stream of vomit spewed from Death’s mouth. 

#FinalisFinibusTractus – #scifi – #poetry #TheEntrusted


on the oil-soaked beach,

a monk,

in bright orange robes.


a respirator

watched as thousands of streams of steam


in the red smog-choked sky.



The job had been described as a death sentence.


She volunteered.


Along with 10,000 machines,

eight hundred monks


four hundred scientists

together they

would bring back the garden







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#FinalisFinibusTractus – #scifi – Invasion of the cats

Two creatures that looked an awful lot like house cats sat conversing in what appeared to be meows and purrs. The flicks of tails, the twitches of ears and whiskers seems to be some kind of advanced communication.

The only reason Candance Lee knew that there was more to the two felines was that they ha walked on two feet out of a… well a space ship. Candance was desperately trying to decipher what the aliens were saying when suddenly she realized that she had seen them both before.

She pulled out her phone and hunted down a cat video she had shared six months earlier on FaceBook. Sure enough, the same two cats were sitting in a room using the same communication techniques that were being exhibited at the moment behind the glass.

Off in the corner of the glass cage was a third cat. One born and raised and presumably one that evolved on earth. It’s fur on end back arched in obvious fear. The two aliens looked almost

The two aliens looked at the cat almost as if it was both n insult and a pity. How Candice could tell was beyond her, yet she knew.


#DeathsTeaParty #poetry

Death why do you hold my hand and walk with me as a lover?

Can I not hold fast in my life..?

Do you not know that I hold as much in the way as I hold past the string of the present.

Would not the mind falter and crumble under the weight and knowledge of the life I know and the life I hold? 


My moments are precious and fleeting so why Dear Death,

why do you hold fast my hand and caress my lips like a lover?


#FinalisFinibusTractus -Is that apple poisonous? #scifi

209 people stood around the tree. It looked a lot like an apple tree from back home. The scientists were cutting open the bright red fruit. On was thinking, ‘Apple seeds are in our seed stock,  if this is close then apples may be a viable crop!’

The six children in the group were looking longingly at the red orbs.  “One whispered,”apple pie?” Myths from Terra. One child spoke, “Apples used to be given as gifts at the winter holiday called Christmas.” Another child laughed and said, “Stupid those were oranges.” Another asked, “What are oranges?”

The adults who were old enough to remember apple pies salivated at the memory. The apple trees in the upper New York Biome only produced half a dozen each season and only for seed stock.

“We need to draw lots.” It was the voice of the team leader. No one liked or trusted the guy. So far he had jumped every time they came across a native herbivore and whenever someone sneezed.

“Oh, I think the illustrious leader needs to taste it first. That is the medal of a true leader,”  the philosopher of the group spoke up.

The grandmother of the group spoke up, “Every one of us is valuable and I agree that we need to draw lots. Who else agrees?”

Only a few hands raised. Then the voices began to get louder

Unseen by the arguing adults the youngest child had shimmied up the tree. It was like climbing a fire escape but better. There were all kinds of places to grab ahold and pull up. He saw two animals in the tree that looked kind of like the serpents in his picture dictionary. He avoided them. He scooted out onto a thick branch and reached for one of the bright red fruit.  It was heavy. Smelled sweet. Licking the skin, he tasted air, water,  and something he had never known before. He took a small bite. It was good. Taking a bigger bite, he couldn’t help but laugh. It was like… he didn’t know. It was so sweet.

The boys laughter grew and the adults looked towards the tree some afraid and others curious. “I volunteer! They are really tasty. I’m going to eat another one!”

#FinalisFinibusTractus – #choose #scifi

“Choose. 10.”

This was the last place I ever thought I would find myself in.


Three dollars in my wallet.  No creds in the bank and nothing on the chip. Can’t pay up.


I’ve been the walking dead for almost ten years but I definitely don’t wanna get shot in the head or whatever these yahoos plan on doing to kill me.


I never thought this would be collected on because I told them what the money was for. That poor kid… Where is this bitches motherly instinct?


How do I weasel out of this? I drew a blank. Not a single thought crossed my mind.


No ideas… really I have nothing? Usually, I’m a lot quicker on my feet about this shit!


I don’t wanna leave terra-firma. This has been my home. I’m not that into traveling! What if the ship explodes!??


There has to be a way to pay this chick back today. No. There is nothing I can do.


No choice.


“Fine I will be part of the crew.” The guy holding me by my cuff dropped me suddenly.

The chick holding the gun laughed, “No. You will be part of the heist.”

#FinalisFinibusTractus – #scifi

A sickeningly sweet female voice rang across the intercom, “Flight Day 148,196. Today’s breakfast includes wheatgrass shakes, scrambled tofu and pancakes. Have a wonderful day.”

20 Showers turn on simultaneously over the ship: the water a perfect 40ᐤC and water pressure that those in normal gravity would envy. Two minutes later the water stops flowing and soapy jets spray for thirty seconds. Water at 10ᐤC sprays out of jets in all directions for exactly one minute. Warm air envelopes the small stall and a warm towel appears as the wall panel moves to the left.

Capitan Skylar Humphries sat at her desk flipping through a digital photo album. Sighing she stood and walked to the cafeteria to grab a tray. The dining hall was somber and quiet. Alone she walked and ate. As she reached a dark metallic orange door she gulped. Excitement, fear, and sadness filled her body.

Tapping a 35 digit code she memorized sixty years earlier. People leapfrogging through time like this was rough on her but necessary. The next thirty days would be bittersweet. The next year down right sad.

On the other side of the door lay row after row of cryopods each held people of different ages and origins. Next to the door a display held 7 pod numbers and a name. Skylar walked to each pod and scanned a plastic card embedded with nano-microchips.  

The seven pods with numbers hummed. At the eighth pod she hesitated. Timothy Bryant. They had trained together. When the former Captain had woken her, she hadn’t recognized him at all. There was a high likelihood that Timothy wouldn’t know who she was at all.

Skylar had never been too keen on the pods, but to explore space, she had thought it worth it so long ago. Part of her regretted the decision. If she survived the next twelve months she would be put in cryo until they arrived at the first planet of call. However, colony building is for young people… she would be considered an elder.

“Skylar? Is that you?”

A sad smile spread across her face, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.


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