The Deep Ones, they called us. The High Priest of those, they called me—yes, and worshipped me as High Priest of themselves as well. You did. Well, some of your lowly, straggling, mortal kind. All around this tiny, tired rock; in South America, Hawai’i, in Africa, in Greenland, in dull, dank Dunwich, even...
Erin had successfully completed more than one hundred skydives before her fateful jump. On that day, a small airplane took her and five others to four thousand metres. One after another, they leapt through the open door of the airplane. “You gonna jump?” The pilot yelled over the sound of the rushing wind...
I am swimming against the current of time. This is a language we brought back from the fractal sea within which we move—it is how our brains interpret the complex machine-filtered universe. All the strands of what-if stretch out into the future, all events and decisions are nodes in a whisper-fine net of potential...
I think I have officially hit movie burnout. It was Date Night last night, so the Mrs. and I went out for dinner and a show. The show in question was the latest remake of The Magnificent Seven, for the very good reason that the Mrs. adores Chris Pratt...
Continued from: Part One | Part Two By the Fall of 2014, we seemed to have our ducks in a decent approximation of a row. True, my eyes were watering from studying and comparing perhaps a hundred or more WordPress themes, but in the end, we’d settled on a design...
The con had wound down. The fans were all gone back to their mundane lives, leaving the five of us in the con suite. Our host, the Gaming Director, passed around what was left of the free sodas. We drank and stared out the window as darkness gathered in the skies above the hotel...
Stellan slouched against the bar, hands cradling a shot glass as if he were warming an unhatched egg. For hours, he’d kept himself to himself, tipping back an assembly line of shot glasses, not bothering to look up long enough to notice anything beyond the increasing blur of wood grain on the counter-top...
When the ships like hovering nightmares appeared over our cities, their three-mile-wide hulls dripping with pure-blue lightning, the creatures made their demands known. They tapped into every audio and visual output in the world, calling forward six particular delegates of the human race to answer a rather complicated question: Why should we not obliterate humanity...
My dearest Angelica, Pen and paper are all I have left. The sky split in half six weeks ago, and since it did, New York has been in the dark. No electronic devices, no electricity of any kind. Do they have thunder beings in Boston? Do they stomp around your mother’s street...
They used to say the best marketing men could sell ice cream to Eskimos. Max Pfalznagel could have passed the test easily; any self-respecting account executive, he used to say, would just kidnap a few Eskimos, strand them in the Mojave, and then drive up in an ice cream van...
Max plunged the sensor into the ground, waiting for the battered LED in the hilt to show if the decomp level in the grave made it worth digging up. If it was daylight, and if the cemetery management would cooperate, he or Jerry could have asked, saved themselves the trial and error. If, if...
Marc hadn’t realized the time jump would cause vertigo. Great. Another glitch that would make potential investors run for the hills. He materialized in the bathroom stall and almost lost his balance...
Continued from Part 1 With SHOWCASE #11, we cut over to the “Crevasse” site design. It seemed like a great idea at the time. The original SHOWCASE site was, to be blunt, old, and very much a product of old-school browser-based desktop-oriented thinking. As outlined in “Show Your Work”, by late 2013 I’d concluded...
Wow. September already. First off, I want to give a shout-out to eagle-eyed proofreader Chris Pearce. No sooner did “Death Comes to Agratha” go live than she sent me an email pointing out a typo in “The Mission,” the story to which there is a link in the author’s bio. To correct this...