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Literature
Alzheimer's
His house is made of crumbling slats
of rotted knotted oak
peeling paint
and weakened joints.
The wind blows unfettered
through unshuttered apertures
dragging fresh sunlight in
and memories away.
Even on the clearest days
he visits the front porch
less and less often.
He prefers to explore
those rooms further in
where tide and time have yet to reach.
Literature
End of the World?
"End of the world?" Richard looked up from his newspaper. "Bollocks! The world will always be here. What you really mean is it's the end of humanity!"
Dumping the paper down on the curb next to him he got to his feet. "If the crazies with shotguns or the blasted zombies don't get us all, this waiting will! I say lets go out with a little style! What d'ya think, Mertle? Shotgun or chainsaw?"
Unfortunately for Richard, the voice he heard answer him was nothing beyond his own mind because Mertle was in fact, an old microwave sitting on the street, with a sm
Literature
We're all just Meat and Bones
Holly,
I'm going to die.
No, I'm going to change…into them. I should probably write this down directly, quickly, and to the point. In about an hour I will cease to be Ryan, English major at Lander University in Greenwood SC, and I will start my life anew as a zombie. Yea, an undead corpse that stumbles around all day searching for human flesh. I will be nameless…just one undead among thousands.
Which is exactly why I'm writing this letter on this stack of blank receipts. I'm holed up in The Dixie, a local burger joint. Ironically, I always thought the old-timey and weathered neon sign out front would make a perfect apocalypse bac
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Just a short one I put together. Hadn't done anything for a while and needed to get one out.
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This was oddly heartwarming (though I suppose not much sci-fi is) and all-around wonderful 