We glanced at each other faces wondering what exactly happened. And all of us , with opened mouths, stared at Dio who was looking at his hand. He must have been aware of the implications of what he done, didn’t he?
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 #88 – Scorched Earth – 3
The rest of the crew rushed towards the spot where he was pointing and found ourselves staring at an odd metallic object on the ground. One of them bent down to pick up an object only to stopped by me before touching it.
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 #84 – Nothing to write tonight
I have nothing to write tonight so I am going to write nothing. So you will see nothing and read nothing. Thank you
Writers’ Journal #83 – Sweet Potato
My classmate and I were going back to our homes , we lived next door to each other , when we stumbled upon a stall we never seen before. It must have been the first day it opened for we noticed there were a few baskets of congratulatory flowers at the door. There were a…
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.
Writers’ Journal #81 – New World
It has been more than 100 thousand years since the Humanity , of the last remaining , left Earth to venture out into space. The search for new home was the message sold off to the dying , sick and the old that packaged and sent to far away destinations but it was essentially an escape from the dying world. Earth was dying at the end of the 35th century. Smoked filled cities occupied the top layer of the surface while the poor struggled below the metal plate holding the enormous factories. The privileged wined and dined above the clouds with clear view to the artificial surface below using the projections to hide the death and destruction below.