WillyWRE

October 31, 2008 - - - The white late-model Buick Electra eased up to a cracked cement curb darkened by coming nightfall. Quickly, the rear driver's-side door swung open, rebounding gently, and two figures emerged onto the half-grass, half-cement roadside surface. "I'll be up at th' ol' Sunoco with your Granny an' Sue waitin' fer you two when yer ready." An elderly, heavily Appalachian-accented man's voice called out from within the Buick. "OK, Pa. We'll be there before it's too late." Willy, one of the figures said, giving a brief nod. His voice was young-but-not-childish, his form taller than the other figure standing just behind him, fur

Lewis - - - Alex sat alone on a bench in a crowded mall food court. Her gaze cast down to herself, sometimes at her hands as they worked to tug at the red cropped t-shirt she wore. She frowned gently as the top restored, exposing more of her midriff, then sighed and leaned forwards, placing her elbows to her knees and heels of her hands to her jawline. The food court was busy, almost bustling. A few hundred people loitered or walked or sat in the large, open area at any time. Most who sat had meals from one of the three occupied restaurant stalls built into the walls and nearly everybody had a shopping bag of some variety. Groups of figures

Tapes and Telephones - - - A long strip of detached coastline floated on an orange-burning blue ocean, lit by a red-setting sun. The maroon mass retreated beyond land-and-cityscape on the opposing side of the beach-lined barrier islands. Figures in swimwear dotted the sand and lapping waves, most slowly ambling along the tide. A small, sparse number huddled by glowing, growing fires. The city, made up of worn low-lying towers on the islands and dark skyscrapers inland, stood in shadow, casting silhouettes into shallow waters. Skeletal structures, surrounded by the slender stems of construction cranes, sent their own wiry darkness down to th

PAPERS, PLEASE An Arstotzkan Account December, 1982 - - - The bolted-down mechanical radio-clock buzzed loudly at five fifteen. It did this even if turned off, or put into holiday setting. Outside, the streets of East Grestin rose from the night with thick, smoggy haze. Fellow Grestinites had to wake earlier than I in much worse jobs, and bustled along in locally-produced automobiles. I stared at the ceiling. It was bad move, taking job as immigration officer at Grestin Border Checkpoint. The government couldn't be bothered to provide anything more than Class-8 apartment for entire family. Uncle is already complaining about cold. Wife doe