Writers’ Journal #91 – Scorched Earth – 6

Neva spoke first. “There is a pyramid,” while pointing both his hands towards the building in front of us. The size and the shape of the pyramid became clearer as we pointed our lights onto the building. It was enormous, but then so were the rest of the buildings. The immediate conclusion was that the residents of that place themselves were large. But there were no statues or pictures that we could see.

Writers’ Journal #89 – Scorched Earth – 4

If there was indeed a signal,  there must be a working transmitter somewhere on the planet. And it would have to be close to our location, based on the signal strength that we were able to detect. I gave an order search for any clues around the landing area leaving Neva with the examination of the rest of the artifacts. I looked down on my watch to remind myself of the time we have before the report back to the main ship.

Writers’ Journal #87 – Scorched Earth – 2

Neva, my navigator, expertly steered the ship to align with the spot where my finger was pointing and the ship began to descend into the atmosphere. We had the initial view of the atmosphere during the descent and found it to be identical to the Earth’s atmosphere’s composition during the early 20th century. Most important of all, the level of oxygen in the air was just the right amount for human to breathe. 

Writers’ Journal #86 – Scorched Earth – 1

It has been 32 years since humanity had escaped the planet Earth for good. Centuries of civilisation depending on the natural resources meant that by 23rd century , surface of the Earth resembled the cities after World War 3. Mighty Jungles and raging rivers had disappeared from the face of the earth , only to remained as display sets in the art museums. Winds blowing at near Cat 5 hurricanes swept everything on the surface with relentless energy.

Writers’ Journal #85 – Blackjack

McRiley was a professional gambler , or that was what he liked to portray himself as to other. But internally and among his cloest friends and family , he was a loser. Aside from odd winnings here and there , his whole life , he had been a loser. A failure in school , rejected by countless , 30 actually , number of women and didn’t even get past the first stage of the interviews till 30s. Even then , he had to settle for the lowest possible position available. But there was one thing he was proud of and it was blackjack. He regularly patronised a game palour behind the school almost every day after the class had ended and by 20s , he was addicted to gambling.

Writers’ Journal #82 – Game Over

The sound of the keys from the keyboard being hammered rang loudly from Timmy’s room. It was loud enough for his sister next door who was studying for the coming exam to plug her ears with the tissue papers. Not only the sound of keys , of course , but also the music , fighting sounds from his computer as well. But his family was used to the late night chaos from him.