Wrising Writers Magazine
A Catalogue of all Science Fiction and Fantasy short stories by America’s next great authors!
-
Domestic optimization was the norm. Doubtless the digital annulment date was preset, with the standard option to revoke if both parties agreed. Counselors would be notified and the newly decoupled would be placed back on the affinity market, with their newly developed partner preference tastes biometrically optimized.
-
Over the years, she learned the patterns. The steps were loudest when she was afraid. They quickened when she was about to make a decision she would regret.
-
Betty Hernandez hated airports. The smell of recycled air, the endless lines, the nervous silence hanging over families pretending everything was normal—it all reminded her of the day they fled Mexico after her father’s murder trial exploded across the news. Now, months later, she stood outside West Acre High School staring at a completely different…
-
The Hunters were not police. That was the first thing Patricia learned. They operated privately. No uniforms. No public records. Their existence lived mostly in rumors among London’s forgotten youth. According to Solomon, the Hunters specialized in removing “social anomalies.” Runaway networks. Underground communities. Groups capable of destabilizing systems. “They believe uncontrolled communities become threats,”…
-
Deep into the heart of the forest they eventually went, blazing a trail that could lead them back to their tent. They walked on with Wole telling them that they had come too far to go back. And so, tiredly they walked on until Adaeze fell into a—a stream! And with a gasp of excitement,…
-
She found Teller Vanidicus’ eyes once more, and now—now—she understood. He knew about that green, green world, and his mind drifted there. Judith lost herself the same. “That’s what we could have?” She felt the heat of tears falling between her parted lips. “Why would we… How could we destroy it?”
-
The house across the street wasn’t there anymore; there was a jagged hole, like a tooth had been ripped out. An old man, wearing shorts and not much else, had limped past her, bleeding at the head; the bright red of his blood was the only colour Maria remembered under all the dust.
