Tag Archives: Mark Ward


Futurismic fiction hits the ground running for the new year with “Roots” by Mark Ward.

Super-enhanced transhuman troubleshooters; augmented and virtual realities; griefers and grifters and ex-girlfriends… when Chris East sent this one over from the slush pile, I took a look at the first few paragraphs and was sucked inexorably right through to the end before I knew what hit me. I hope you enjoy it as much as we did – be sure to let us know in the comments box at the bottom!


by Mark Ward

The first Hitler was seen by a jogger chasing the morning light through the remains of San Francisco. He stood in the grassy clearing once known as Ghirardelli Square declaiming to an invisible audience.

The runner hesitated when she saw him, sneakers tapping time on a strip of sidewalk missed by the robot reclamation teams. He looked crazy but she did not know if he was the pervert or harmless kind.

The countdown in the corner of her vision went pink so she pushed off the kerb and out across the springy turf. She relaxed when she saw its shadow pointed toward the sun. It was only a shade. Good work too. The uniform draped well and even the toothbrush moustache looked the right side of ridiculous. She shot some footage then wiggled her fingers to file it to the news channels. Another Hitler popped into view before she dipped under the tree line.

Hitlers were rampant by the time she was leaning on her thighs on Pier 39, sucking in lungfuls of air and fighting the urge to puke.

A thick drift of them, their jerking salutes as choreographed as a chorus line, had formed around the Fountain of Light in Montgomery Park. Continue reading NEW FICTION: ROOTS by Mark Ward


We’ve got a new story from Futurismic alumnus Mark Ward – his “Cycle Thieves” was published here around this time last year.

“A Life In Pictures” manages to be absurd and touching at the same time, a buddy movie of an entirely different story.

A Life In Pictures

by Mark Ward

“Let me see if I understand,” said JJ, knuckles white as he made fists to stop his hands shaking. He looked between Frankie Hornbluth sat behind the desk and Pip reclining on the arm of the other chair in the agent’s office. “You want to cast Pip here, a squirrel, as the leading man in my movie.”

“I do,” said Hornbluth. “It’s finishing what Tim Burton started with Charlie and the whatever.”

Hornbluth turned to the squirrel. “Pip, honey. It’s the perfect role for you.” He clenched his fists. “Gritty. Urban.” He cupped his hands over his heart, then wiped away an imaginary tear. “Tender. Warm. A breakout role. You’re made for it. And it gives JJ here something to do.” Continue reading A LIFE IN PICTURES by Mark Ward


Mark Ward‘s a new writer from the United Kingdom with a lot of talent. His Futurismic début “Cycle Thieves” is a moody mystery that wonders if life makes sense if you know too much.

[ 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. ]

Cycle Thieves

by Mark Ward

“You know what I’m sick of?” Trev said.

“No,” Duffy said, pawing through his rucksack, “I don’t.”

“Perfect relationships.”

Duffy stopped rummaging, looked up, and saw that George, El and Chrissy were as nonplussed as he was, not least because Trev was going through a messy divorce.

“What?” Duffy said, speaking for all of them.

“Look,” Trev said. “I’ve joined all these online dating networks that hook you up with people that you’re bound to fancy based on your likes and dislikes, who your friends are, your aspirations, personality, salary. The lot. We’re all members of them. I’ve got accounts at Taxa, Umfriends, Benco, Lulot…”

“Lulot?” El said. “Don’t think I know that one.”

“Stands for ‘Love you long time’. Well, almost. Anyway, I’ve joined loads of them but when I’m on one of these dates there’s nothing to talk about. I know everything about her, and she knows everything about me. What music, what books, fave films, pet peeves, where we went to school. Collar size. Everything. The social network side of it means you can’t lie either. There’s no surprises, no mystery, nothing to discover. You’re perfectly matched and bored stupid. It takes all the fun out of dating, I can tell you.”

“You just miss getting your face slapped a few times a night,” Chrissy said. Continue reading CYCLE THIEVES by Mark Ward