by Mike Cook. It was the last day on earth, and it looked like it was going to rain. This was the sort of observation Sam would usually make a little mental note of for a later conversation with someone, but catastrophic global disasters made it hard to find someone

by Emilie Reed. Sidney is skimming the tent of her fingers along the in-cabin entertainment screen. Her gestures have been getting more grandiose over time, so when I stare at her back, I notice the force of each movement sending her slightly sideways in space, like a ticking clock hand.

by Florence Smith Nicholls. Olive was a reliable dog-sitter. Every weekend she would dutifully watch over Old Sam’s beloved pet while he went away on business. It was easy money, especially because the dog had actually been dead for at least two years. “Smells weird.” Olive didn’t acknowledge

by Jamie Woodcock. It was supposed to be a new world. He remembered the first time stepping foot onto the planet. A barren landscape stretched out on all sides. No flora or fauna. It was unmarked by human settlements. The ground crunched underfoot, bringing sound to the otherwise silent vista.