Short Story

Zara Chen stood before the blank wall, her breath catching in her throat. Where her mural had been just yesterday—a vibrant phoenix rising from swirling ashes—there was nothing but a flat expanse of beige paint. She reached out, running her fingers over the surface. It was smooth, as if her artwork had never existed. “What the hell?” she muttered, glancing up and down the alley. A few early morning commuters hurried past the entrance, but no one paid her any attention. Zara pulled out her phone, scrolling through her gallery until she found the photo she’d taken upon completing the mural three days ago. There it was in all its glory—twelve feet of color and life. ...

Zara Kouri stared at the brain scan on her computer screen, brow furrowed in concentration. The neural pathways flickered and pulsed, a dazzling light show of human consciousness. But something wasn’t right. She zoomed in, enhancing a cluster of neurons near the hippocampus. “Impossible,” she muttered. The lab around her was silent and dim, lit only by the glow of monitors. It was well past midnight, but Zara had lost track of time hours ago. She often worked late into the night, preferring the quiet solitude to the bustle of daytime activity. ...

Margo Saguaro squinted against the harsh desert sun as she checked her watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. The cracked asphalt of the resort parking lot shimmered with heat, and sweat beaded on her forehead despite the oversized sunhat she’d donned for the occasion. “Where is everyone?” she muttered, tapping her foot impatiently. “I specifically said check-in was at 2 PM sharp.” As if on cue, a plume of dust appeared on the horizon, growing larger by the second. Margo’s eyes widened as she made out the unmistakable shape of a dune buggy hurtling towards her at breakneck speed. The vehicle screeched to a halt mere inches from her sensible khaki shorts, kicking up a cloud of sand and pebbles. ...

Evelyn Marsh stood at her kitchen window, gazing out at the overgrown garden she’d once tended with care. The weeds had taken over now, choking out the flowers and vegetables her late husband Jack had loved so much. She sighed, running a hand through her graying hair. At forty-two, she felt decades older, worn down by grief and the monotony of small-town life. The sharp ring of the telephone cut through the silence, making her jump. Evelyn hesitated before answering, steeling herself for whatever fresh misery awaited on the other end of the line. ...

Eliza Chen first noticed it while preparing her morning coffee, a faint vibration that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at once. She paused, mug suspended halfway to her lips, and cocked her head to listen. But in that moment of focused attention, the sound retreated, blending seamlessly into the background noise of suburban life. Shaking her head, Eliza dismissed the anomaly and took a sip of coffee. She had more pressing concerns this morning, like getting her son Kai out of bed and off to school on time. At thirteen, he was in that delightful stage where his body demanded twelve hours of sleep while his class schedule insisted on seven. ...

Abigail Thorne stood at the edge of the gallows, her fingers curled around the rough-hewn wood. A chill wind whipped across the town square, carrying the scent of pine and woodsmoke. She stared at the trapdoor, imagining her brother’s feet dangling above it. “It ain’t right,” she muttered, her jaw clenched. “Thomas wouldn’t hurt a soul.” The crowd had dispersed, leaving only a few stragglers milling about. Abigail’s gaze fell on Judge Elias Blackwood as he emerged from the courthouse, his black robes billowing. The judge’s eyes met hers briefly before he looked away, a flicker of… something… crossing his face. ...

Mira Chen’s fingers hovered over her keyboard as she stared at the blinking cursor on her screen. The office around her hummed with the usual Monday morning activity, but something felt off. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but an unsettling sensation prickled at the back of her neck. Shaking her head, Mira tried to focus on the task at hand. As the newest member of the IT team at Pinnacle Solutions, she was determined to prove herself. She’d only been here two weeks, and already she felt like she was drowning in a sea of unfamiliar faces and complex systems. ...

The shutter clicked rapidly as Mara Thorne captured frame after frame of the elusive Kirtland’s warbler. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the small gray and yellow bird flit between the jack pines, its melodious song echoing through the forest. After three days of patient waiting in her camouflaged blind, she had finally spotted the endangered species. Mara lowered her camera, allowing herself a small smile of satisfaction. It had been years since a Kirtland’s warbler had been documented in this part of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Her photographs could aid critical conservation efforts for the species. ...

Judge Juniper Hawthorne smoothed her silk blouse and adjusted her designer glasses, peering out the grimy bus window at the endless expanse of trees. This was not how she had envisioned spending her summer. The memory of her courtroom meltdown still made her cringe - who knew throwing a gavel at that smug defense attorney would land her in so much hot water? Now here she was, exiled to the middle of nowhere for a month of “character-building” community service. ...

Zara Vex’s fingers danced across the haptic interface, weaving strands of code into shimmering cityscapes. Neon fractals bloomed and twisted, coalescing into impossible architecture that defied the laws of physics. With a flick of her wrist, she scattered a galaxy’s worth of stars across the virtual sky. “Impressive as always, Ms. Vex,” came a silky voice from behind her. Zara didn’t bother turning around. She recognized the honeyed tones of Iris Bloom, founder and CEO of Nexus Corp. The woman had an uncanny ability to materialize exactly when Zara was in the middle of something important. ...