Reach V

PREFACE: Reach was one of seven men named as such who existed in seven separate universes as multiversally intertwined souls. It was impossible for them to meet; and though, theoretically, it was possible for Reach to cross over to another universe, the chances of encountering one of the other seven were ridiculously low. This was … Continue reading Reach V

Reach IV

PREFACE: Reach was one of seven men named as such who existed in seven separate universes as multiversally intertwined souls. It was impossible for them to meet; and though, theoretically, it was possible for Reach to cross over to another universe, the chances of encountering one of the other seven were ridiculously low. This was … Continue reading Reach IV

Reach III

If you don’t know what Gha’Cre Stoh Rage Haiku is, you shouldn’t. I invented it for my fictional multiverse. Rules: Seven lines, each line no more than seven syllables, one line must contain only two words, the final line is a single word. Written in multiples (Gha’Cre) usually numbering seven, a final stanza (Stoh) is … Continue reading Reach III

Reach I

PREFACE: Reach was one of seven men named as such who existed in seven separate universes as multiversally intertwined souls. It was impossible for them to meet; and though, theoretically, it was possible for Reach to cross over to another universe, the chances of encountering one of the other seven were ridiculously low. This was … Continue reading Reach I

Day Thirty-Five – The Everlasting Mister Rolo

Record 2 – Pushing Daisy The building was small and tucked between more architecturally pleasing constructions. It was bare – grey and featureless, save a small logo positioned haphazardly just next to the building’s single door. When Rolo had first been contracted to perform services for Ulysses Robotics, he had difficulty finding the location. He … Continue reading Day Thirty-Five – The Everlasting Mister Rolo

Day Thirty-Four – The Mysterious Flamingo of the Tundra

They say space ruins relationships. I believe it. I’m not talking about personal space, even though they might be. I don’t mean that his demand for guy time away from her coupon clipping is the spark or spur to the inevitable divide. I don’t suggest that two people perpetually intertwined for twenty-four hours out of … Continue reading Day Thirty-Four – The Mysterious Flamingo of the Tundra

Day Thirty-Three – The Mysteries of Porcine Aeronautics and You

I've not written an Inner Wild piece in a while. I'm not sure where this fits, or what planet this is on, or who Meretricious Mandy really is. I just know she's a Solarian, and I know why they call her Meretricious Mandy. --- Limping back from a long day on the hunt, Meretricious Mandy … Continue reading Day Thirty-Three – The Mysteries of Porcine Aeronautics and You

Day Thirty-Two – Rabbits and Other Lies (or, Rockclimbing for Krakens)

After seventeen weeks of unemployment, and numerous hours of standing in lines at the LRC recruitment facility, Ken Baxter has given up. The Labor Replacement Corps have denied his entry into their ranks, citing over-qualification and a full roster of specialists in his field. "I didn't want to be a Lurker anyway," he tells the … Continue reading Day Thirty-Two – Rabbits and Other Lies (or, Rockclimbing for Krakens)

Day Thirty – Quality Stock Tips From an Okapi (or, Mr. China Has Seven Splinters)

--- TRecTm5.2218.14.11.x.x Rprt -22.22.511.5.5.167.3.7.vv.20491 Earth Interplanetary Logistics and Colonization - Robotic Recon Team - Report - Assmt. 17501.R.TR73 ||\\|| BEGIN REPORT ||\\|| WRECKAGE OF ARTEMIS LANDER : MSN TtnRcn2203 : CONFIRMED ENVIRONMENT SEALS BROKEN ID OF FOUR OF FIVE TEAM MEMBERS CONFIRMED DOCTOR ABRAHAM TOLLE: DECEASED, BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA PTY OFR RAYMOND GILFREY: DECEASED, CAROTID … Continue reading Day Thirty – Quality Stock Tips From an Okapi (or, Mr. China Has Seven Splinters)

Day Twenty-Nine – Papercut Moseby’s Left Withered

There is darkness and sound--a repetitive thud and scraping of metal. I feel heat radiating around me, and I feel trapped and claustrophobic. I cannot move my body more than a few inches in any direction. There are walls surrounding me, lined with soft silk. I feel myself pressed against a cushion to my back--laying … Continue reading Day Twenty-Nine – Papercut Moseby’s Left Withered