One long hot summer Samantha went to visit her grandmother’s farm. The farm was manned by Grandma and Uncle Toby. A month after Samantha arrived, Grandma knew Mother would not return. They called her day after day, then the police, then child services; no word. The men said that grandmother was the next available kin so Samantha had to live on the farm now.
Narrowly the passage began to close, wind rushed across the plains in a torent. Sweeping up my long hair in a flurry, curled vines of wispy hair flew up to the heavens. A curled mass lay on the hill bellow, the vast dead oak hung above us all on the largest hill where another family sat on it's branches.
For nearly 3 years, 3 years of my research team's life was spent watching that spirit. The god of this river had been filtering out smaller microbes and feeding off sunlight for most of it's manifestation. It was the clearest example of divine manifestation in the pacific northwest as of the 2010s, but it was small and aimless.
Christ, you ever get that feeling of loss? like I'm talking that real separation, I know "planetsides" don't really get space but it's overpowering. The feeling of that you lost something is just everywhere in spacer art and lifestyle.
On April 4th, 1988 the ship arrived near the south of Guyana. It was first discovered a week ago when it first arrived in the solar system. Sending out a broadcast of bones scraping, this alerted S.E.T.I., who alerted N.A.S.A., who alerted the D.O.D., who alerted the U.N.
The craft was headed directly towards the southern region of Guyana and would arrive in a week. They then contacted the president of Guyana (Desmond Hoyte) who eagerly agreed to a joint operation to make contact with this extraterrestrial craft. When the ship arrived on April 4th, it was unlike what anyone had expected.
Not much is known directly about the Mass. The creature exists within Transitory Space (The Frequency) and poses a significant threat to Eastern space transit travel. Unlike similar “Mega-Psychofauna,” the Mass is special, it is sentient in some regard.
Most modern realists in the 25th century believe that psychics are an unbelievable concept. Most of these theorists are planetside, perhaps in hovels on Earth or Mudbrick townhouses on Mars (Marja-Ra) While most Spacers know and understand the realities of metaphysics, expressly. Any economic aristocrat on Luna or any cosmopolitan Cylinder can tell you that the spacers who travel in between that nightmare dimension (The Frequency) psychics are very real.
February 9th, 2025
Everything was on this game, the president, his relationship, hell his career. Patrick Mahomes sweat through the uniform, his head thrummed in stress with the pressure mounting and mounting. He’s in the middle of the field, running, the plan still fresh in his mind. By christ he sees an opening, he takes it, passing it 3 yards away. He’s going slower now watching as the scene unfolds, he’s now at a slow jog tracing his eyes on… zero? Who the hell is zero?
But before the thought can take form he witnesses a miracle, one of many from this player. Weighing 300 lbs of pure muscle he leaps, flying through the air above everyone landing in a perfect roll in front of the eagle’s end zone throwing the ball unto the wet manicured grass below. There is silence in the stadium, nearly 65 thousand people stunned into silence. A single fan begins weeping profusely. The crowd explodes into cheers, the sound pains Mahone's ears, a piercing wail of thousands of souls screaming as one.
The Elegance of Decadent Cleanliness: A Review of Laetum Iter by Malcolm Theressa.
As Earth progressed away from the Long Death, mankind progressed as well. The separation of hyper-nationalism, bio-engineering debates, and the ethics of biological mannequins faded. Modern Earthlings focus on 3 aspects of their life, re-settlement, art, and reconquista. I was personally invited to Earth to the hyper megalopolis of Buenos Aires. Home to nearly 300 million people in layered concrete garden arcologies, a utopia. My visit was only for less than a week but it was like a blissful dream, as of writing this I can scarcely remember the wonders there.
But the most important and impactful of my visits was to the National Opera House, where the state troupe performed a locally made Opera “Laetum Iter” or Happy Journey, which is a moralist opera detailing the journey of Triko, the Toy. The opera house was packed with the “middle class” of the new regime, the petty operators and controllers. I sat in the top box alongside Delta Control Minister Cecil Clementine, a thin shapely man in his early 30s. He had invited me and my crew to Earth to write a traveling review, and most of that first draft was rubbish.