"Minus"_Hibernation Meditation_The Bow and The Arrows_Mrs. Brightfield
Catalog Guide:
"Minus"
I’m not sure why, or even how this whole thing happened. My parents told me a bunch of complicated things about volcanic eruptions and how the sky was full of ash, and how it wasn’t safe to be outside for long periods of time anymore, or even at all.Now a desolate Earth lurks just outside the doors of my home. Those things had torn into the only remaining houses on my old neighborhood block. The ash-filled sky out there is dull, the air thick with smoke. But Minus, my AI, made me a beautiful home that allows me to be safe and entirely self-sufficient. He’s the best companion I could ask for, ...
Hibernation Meditation
Dear Luce, I wasn’t sure whether I should write this, or whether you’d even see it; I’m not even sure if you’re ok, but what the hell? After all, I’m not going to see you ever again, and I guess you only live once? Or maybe this is my chance at twice? I won’t know until I wake up and, frankly, I’m not sure what to expect. The geniuses at Mission Control assure me that this will be like going under for a quick out-patient procedure. They jack me up with the necessary equipment, down I go, and — if everything goes according to plan — I wwww.onedoor.ccake up 40 years from now, thinking I woke up from a colono...
The Bow and The Arrows
As Talha walked towards old storeroom, situated at the backside of his house, Waleed followed him. Waleed was Talha’s best ,or the only friend , with whom he was comfortable upto a good degree , in sharing his views and thoughts, which otherwise remained confined within Talha. Talha was carrying the black, old, and little rusty bow, with few arrows ,similar to bow in description in a bag. “ Where are you going to keep this bag” spoke Waleed. Waleed had already recognised the things present in the bag. Talha had showed them to him a number of times, and had also shared different narrations and ...
Mrs. Brightfield
In this cloudy Sunday morning, Céléne was walking down Rue des Martyrs in Paris with a blank and unblinking stare taking the straighter direction, hypnotized by her spinning thoughts. Was the street very crowded? Did peoplehang out alone, with friends or with family? She wouldn’t know and wouldn’tcare that much. Like every Sunday during the fall season, she was captured by somememories sprinkled with some kind of regrets. This Sundaymorning, she was thinking of Terence – her childhood lover with whom shehad maintained a non-relationship for years when she was a child. She was feeling so good w...