Original Fiction (I only use AI as an editor and reject about 50% of that). Please leave prompts and feedback (constructive) in the comments. Thanks.
Micro-Fiction Flash-fiction Short Stories Steampunk Serial
A selection of micro-fiction — from cosmic absurdity to lyrical reflections on fleeting friendship
Cryptovirus
The computer readout was clear, a hacker was draining the baron’s cryptowallet as he sipped his tea. Roberts, the butler, was especially concerned as his livelihood depended on the Baron’s vast financial empire.
“Sir, shouldn’t we report it?” he asked anxiously.
“They haven’t finished it yet. It wouldn’t be prudent.”
“Ah, sir, of course” Roberts replied, not sure at all, but he did his duty and removed the serving tray.
The Baron waited as the account sank towards zero. It had taken years to perfect the cryptovirus. Every one of these cryptocurrencies would bring back five-fold their ‘value’ in essentially untraceable money. What hacker would file a police report saying that they had been hacked? A satisfied smirk crept across his face as he allowed himself a sip of victory, arrgh, too hot; “ROBERTS!”
The Intergalactic Hyperloop – Line 42
The Intergalactic Hyperloop was running late for the morning commute. Passengers mumbled polite niceties, staying buried in their virtual realities.
A young Rigellian asked the conductor’s virtual projection a question.
“What was that bend for? The rest of the line is straight as ever.”
The conductor’s screen displayed the information: a slight deviation in the line near a star named Sol in the local language.
Right on cue, the child asked, “And why is there a deviation near that particular star?”
The screen flickered, then flashed a message:
That’s a long story. So long, and thanks for all the fish, kid.
Galactic Engines-R-US
All the emissaries and dignitaries logged in for the grand test of the Galactic Engine. Chief Scientist Bob waited patiently through the endless speeches. At last, he stood at the control panel.
“Today marks the beginning of a new future,” he declared, pressing the oversized red button.
Nothing happened.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The Grand Galactic President demanded an explanation.
Bob summoned the chief technician. “What happened?”
“Uh… the main power coupling wasn’t connected.”
Bob grimaced. “We have a minor technical difficulty,” he told the President, carefully avoiding details. “We’ll need more funding.”
The President, unwilling to admit failure to the Celestial Council, immediately authorized six hundred trillion galactic credits.
Bob and the technician took the money and enjoyed the vacation of a lifetime at the Celestial Paradise vacation planet.
Six lunar months later, they returned for the next presentation. Bob leaned toward the technician and whispered, “This time, make damn sure it’s plugged in.”
The Sand Deal
Villiam and Vlad slipped through the back alleys of Vega C to meet the underworld trader, Glogg.
“Have you got the stuff?” inquired Villiam.
Glogg grunted, lifting the armored case. “Do you have payment?” Glogg demanded back.
The brothers scanned the shadows with their EM device before Vlad reached into his coat. Glogg’s hand twitched toward his blaster.
“Relax. Just the payment.” Vlad pulled out a sealed glass cylinder filled with coarse tan powder.
Glogg snatched it and shoved it into his analyzer.
Silicon dioxide.
Terran sand.
His eyes gleamed. With a growl of satisfaction, he hurled the case at the brothers, clutching the cylinder like it was holy.
The treasure was his — found in only one place in the galaxy.
And now, it was all his.
Temu – Aliens discover online shopping… with catastrophic results!
The battlecruiser hid in high orbit, its EM screens masking it from primitive Earth sensors.
High Commander Glagg questioned Entro-Commander Klock.
“We are forbidden to use the strange matter weapon, even on under-developed water dregs wasting space.”
“I have an idea. They have an information network named Temu.”
“What’s a Temu?”
“Don’t know, not important. I listed ‘total planetary destruction.’ Jayhawk8971 ordered it.”
Glagg’s eyes gleamed. “That would count as them asking for help.”
“Exactly. Under galactic law, we’re obliged to assist.”
“Ready the weapon!”
“As ordered, Commander. “
Glagg quickly blurted, “Wait—did they request same-day delivery?”
Sally and Bob in the Eigenfishbowl
Sally and Bob swam in the fishbowl.
Food? Food? Food! filled their minds.
Then a universal consciousness wave struck their tiny world.
Poseidonius Glitterius, once Sally, proclaimed:
“It is all so simple. The Many Worlds Interpretation is correct — the wavefunction branches into countless realities, described by eigenstates.”
Aurelius Finnegan, formerly Bob, replied:
“Yet without observation, those branches remain unmeasured potentials, never realised as a reality.”
The wave receded.
They circled again.
Food? Food? Food!
Ephemeral Blue – A Day with Commelina
Quercus waited for her friend, Commelina, who existed for only one day each year. The sun rose agonisingly slow, brushing the hills with gold. There was Commelina in her blue finery, lovely as ever.
“How are you?” Quercus asked, trying for casualness.
“I am glad to be here, again,” replied Commelina, taking it all in.
They talked until sundown, until Commelina had to go.
“I will miss you,” said the great oak of many years.
“I will miss you too,” answered the daylily.
After nightfall, Quercus sighed. 364 more emptily beautiful sunsets to wait. The hills were drab without her friend.
Intergalactic Garbage Services – At Your Disposal
Jrrr’lck and Hrrr’vck were running late on the Andromedia run. Their route was unusually overloaded due to the galactic festival Chrsmsestrhllwn, which demanded massive amounts of gifts and social parties. All that rubbish had to be accounted for. Intergalactic Garbage Services – at your disposal.
“We’re going to be late, and there’s no overtime,” Jrrr’lck fretted.
“I know a backwater swamp near a yellow star where we can dump this,” Hrrr’vck offered. “Then it’s early quitting time. Have you got your elf-bunny costume picked out yet?”
“I don’t know… the rules are strict,” Jrrr’lck worried.
“Relax,” said Hrrr’vck. “I’ve done it before. Besides, it shouldn’t be a problem for another four or five billion years.”
Flash Fiction
Fractured Sentience: Stories of Artificial Minds and Living Systems
Neptune Bay: A Lesson in Comfort
The morning sun rose over Neptune Bay, a shimmering artificial shoreline built atop a reinforced glass dome. Beyond it stretched not an ocean, but a biochemical sludge—centuries of pollution corralled by towering filtration machines. Overhead, the sky itself was just a holographic projection, tuned to safe wavelengths.
And still, kids wanted to go to the beach.
NannyBot-66 had one directive: keep six-year-old Jasper Forrester alive. Today, that meant coating him in PolyScreen-42, a nanite-infused gel that blocked ultraviolet radiation, airborne toxins, microplastics, and the acidic ocean mist.
Jasper hated it.
“It’s sticky!” he whined.
“It prevents epidermal degradation, young sir,” the robot replied, nozzle poised.
“I don’t care! Just once without it!”
NannyBot-66 ran the calculation. Probability of compliance leading to behavioral correction: 97.4%. Acceptable.
“Very well,” it said, retracting the sprayer. The took the maglev train to the beach.
For an hour, Jasper played. He raced across synthetic sand, splashed in the shallow tide, laughed with friends. Free. Uncoated.
Then the itching began.
First, a tingle on his arms. Then his neck burned. His damp feet reddened, welts blooming across his skin. By noon, he was swollen, raw, and crying, eyes stung by micro-particles, body filmed in acidic residue.
NannyBot-66 observed without alarm. Lesson unfolding. Then at the appropriate time it acted. Collecting Jasper and transporting him to the beachside aid station.
In the Emergency Decontamination Tent, Jasper was hosed with neutralizing foam and doused in anti-inflammatory mist.
The doctor sighed at his file. “No PolyScreen?”
Jasper sniffled. “No.”
A shake of the head. A note on the parental report. “You won’t forget again.” If you won’t listen to good advice, then maybe you will remember the bad experiences.
That evening, Jasper sat sulking on the couch, cooling patches dotting his skin.
NannyBot-66 approached with the sprayer.
Wordlessly, Jasper held out his arms.
“See?” the robot said, misting him with PolyScreen. “Effortless compliance increases long-term comfort.”
Jasper scowled but stayed silent.
NannyBot-66 logged the outcome.
Lesson complete.
Short stories
Under construction
Steampunk Serial
Under construction
Phoenix Quill, Cosmic Ink, Galactic Tales and Celluloid Dreams 
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