Tag Archives: Lisa Mantchev

THE JIMINY DEVICE by Lisa Mantchev

“The Jiminy Device” from Lisa Mantchev is a delightfully snarky satire of celebrity taken to its logical (and entourage-encrusted) extreme.

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The Jiminy Device

by Lisa Mantchev

“What do you mean you’re leaving?”

Shock and disbelief clouded London’s brow (despite the neurotoxin injections) as she stared at her lover. Marcel only shrugged. When one of his people scribbled a note and handed it to him, he read it cold.

“We’re drifting apart. It’s not you, it’s me.” He took the cigarette out of his mouth and glared at the hapless scriptwriter. She withered visibly behind her cheap haircut. “This is what I pay you for?” He shook his head and his stylist adjusted the tousled locks with a comb.

London sniffed, trying to muster some tears. Her special effects guy produced a squirt bottle of saline when she couldn’t quite manage it on her own. Her personal trainer (Tony… or was it Toby?) glared at Marcel. “You can’t leave me. I’m an heiress for god’s sake. I’m leaving you.”

Neil and Susanna, their respective PR generals, glowered at each other. Index fingers hovered over cell phones, ready to speed-dial the Associated Press. Continue reading THE JIMINY DEVICE by Lisa Mantchev

BETTER SWEETS TO PROVE THAN SLEEP by Lisa Mantchev

“Better Sweets to Prove Than Sleep” by Lisa Mantchev is the story of a woman caught between men, between demands on her time, and between life as a microsleeper and the pressures of a comatose society.

[ IMPORTANT NOTICE: This story is NOT covered by the Creative Commons License that covers the majority of content on Futurismic; copyright remains with the author, and any redistribution is a breach thereof. Thanks. ]

Better Sweets To Prove Than Sleep

by Lisa Mantchev

Jenna retrieved four poems memorized in third grade, the capitols of the fifty-four states, and the molecular structure of hydrogen. She dumped them in the recycle bin, shuffled around her free memory and recategorized the Townsend project as High Priority.

Zach grunted above her but she couldn’t concentrate on little things like his sweating body and enthusiastic penetration with so much junk swirling around in her head.

Distracted by the look of gleeful concentration on his face, Jenna lost her grasp on the sorting process and slipped into microsleep. Finalization of the new changes. Rapid cell repair and regeneration on the soles of her naked feet. QuickDreams of Cinderella at the masquerade, frolicking in fountains and surrounded by pink and gold fireworks. Then she jerked awake to the panicked repetition of her name accompanied by gentle slaps to her face. Continue reading BETTER SWEETS TO PROVE THAN SLEEP by Lisa Mantchev