April’s story, “The Towers of St. Michael’s” from Futurismic alumnus David Walton is a pensive piece about the sensory world and the barriers between two people separated by sight. Check out David’s earlier “Diamond Dust” afterwards, if you haven’t already read it.
The Towers Of St. Michael’s
by David Walton
Paul watched Bartalan Varga slash egg-yellow paint across his canvas, adding a sparkle of reflected sunlight to a traffic scene from his native Budapest. On Paul’s fMRI screen, Bartalan’s visual cortex lit up, just as if he were seeing the colorful buildings and buses and pedestrians in his painting. But even a cursory glance at the stunted buds where his eyes should have been contradicted this. Bartalan Varga was totally blind. Continue reading THE TOWERS OF ST. MICHAEL’S by David Walton
February’s story is now available; Chris Nakashima-Brown spins us a near-future post-mediapocalyptic mind-bender about celebrity, freedom, America and meaning in “R.P.M.”.
by Chris Nakashima-Brown
The 1994 Chevrolet Monte Carlo SS hurtles south down Cahuenga after midnight, jury-rigged engine exhaling the throaty rasp of an emphysemic Olympian. Urban interceptor, an abandoned rental reclaimed as instrument of revolution.
Or at least that’s what 0z0 said the night before as he drilled holes in the muffler to amplify the effect.
“We’re gonna free the monster,” he smiled, lighting the welding torch. Continue reading R.P.M. by Chris Nakashima-Brown
We’ve got a great new story from David Walton about the aftermath of a war in Taiwan and what happens to families torn apart by it.
[ 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. ]
by David Walton
Christine Gray hardly knew the woman whose life she was about to destroy. She’d met Chen Kit-ken on two occasions, neither time long enough to register more than dress and hairstyle. Yet today, in front of this scandal-loving crowd, she planned to ruin her.
It wasn’t something Christine wanted to think about. Instead, she concentrated on a mental check of her appearance: eyes confident; smile thin, as if at a secret joke; body erect; arms relaxed. She breathed steadily, waiting.
And finally, Kit-ken arrived, slipping into the room through a side door. No announcement, no trumpets, no steward striking a gong, and yet, in a sudden ripple of turning heads, she arrested the attention of everyone in the room. Continue reading DIAMOND DUST by David Walton
Christopher East lays out what Futurismic fiction is all about in his new column.
Continue reading Christopher East – Defining Futurismic Fiction