The Joneses #1

 

Old Friends

Somewhere in orbit around Sirius (2342, about noon Galactic Admin. Chronometric Standard)

Mr. and Mrs. Jones were floating in a small vessel in stellar synchronous orbit around Sirius. They stared out of the windshield at the flares coughed up the nuclear mass. Mr. Jones handed Mrs. Jones and smoldering joint and she handed him a near empty bottle. They nodded in unison to the thumping of the music bouncing around the pod.

“That one looked like a cow,” Mr. Jones said pointing out the window.

“I think I saw a cow earlier,” Mrs. Jones replied, “But it was in orbit so that may have been the mescaline.”

“Mom? Dad? We got a…,” a voice said over the music before being switched off by Mr. Jones.

Mr. and Mrs. Jones continued to nod.

‘Wu-Tang killa’ beez, we on a swarm.’

Continue reading “The Joneses #1”

Psamurai #1

 

 

Just Because You’re Unemployed Doesn’t Mean You’re a Ronin

Philadelphia, Present Day

Hunter sat slumped in his usual gully riven deep in the couch. Red bong in one hand remote in the other. A cigarette stem clenched in his teeth with a 100 cigarette stuffed in the end. He stared dead eyed at a blank television screen. About forty five minutes prior he had eaten about six dried grams of the mushroom; psilocybe cubensis.

“Did I get burnt again?” he grumbled, “No honor out there anymore.”

He brushed away an empty paper plate revealing a Demons and Demiurges player’s manual. He picked it up and idly leafed through it stopping every now and then to sigh and examine an illustration. He landed on a picture of a samurai. The samurai was standing, facing off against a group of thugs accosting a young maiden. As he studied the lines of the illustration the samurai lurched. Hunter jumped, but remembered the mushrooms.

Continue reading “Psamurai #1”

Ray #1

 

A Crashing Entrance

The Kuiper Belt – Jan 6-7, 1422 A.D. (local time)

A small vessel floated between the debris tumbling through the Kuiper Belt. It’s sole occupant was meticulously turning a dial on a console with spindly fingers. A sound like a tenor bell being struck at a plodding tempo swelled through the cabin. The pilot removed his fingers from the dial and pressed one of a myriad of blinking buttons.

“This is Ray,” he said.

“Seraph Raphael, state your position, ” said a disembodied voice.

Continue reading “Ray #1”