Dairy Reinvented

“Our regional cows have been highly productive,” beamed Norm, supervising an employee unload dairy products for customers.

But where were they?

The regulars showed up. Tourists trickled in as they did elsewhere in the vacationland—unlike booming pre-pandemic times. Did the current political climate have a bearing?

After days of dismal turnout, Norm called his staff for a meeting.

“Put up a new display poster,” he instructed. “Half price: ALL dairy!

A sampling counter was set up, manned by an employee.

Sales accelerated. Many shopping carts left the grocery store with dairy. Late comers found the refrigerated section emptied out.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Machine Music

"Why do I have to learn piano if in five years all music's going to be made by AI anyway?"

Gale generally enjoyed his life as a piano instructor, but his sessions with Kimberly were an exception. She was the kind of student who constantly wasted his time and purposefully avoided practice, so even her warm up scales grated on his nerves.

"AI doesn't know the first thing about writing actual music. It's just a bunch of sounds that vaguely resembles a real song. Art can't be created by a machine."

"But my biology teacher says humans are machines too."

Snow Storm

It’s freezing and I’m stranded on a back road with no cell service and a raging snow storm. In my defense, the snow was light when I started driving and this is not what the weather forecast predicted. I’m pinned in the car and can’t move. My chest aches, most likely from the impact, and my left leg is throbbing. It must be fractured. I’m too weak and cold to move and I’m afraid if I try to, I’ll hurt myself more. All I can do is wait and pray.

Is that lights ahead?

“Miss, are you okay?”

I’m rescued.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Steward

Rebecca and I drove up the long gravel way until it crested a small ridge and our new home came into view. She sucked in her breath, shocked by the magnificence of the old mansion.

"I haven't been here in thirty years. Nothing's changed."

She squeezed my hand, in excitement or perhaps disbelief. The estate belonged to my grandfather, then my uncle, and now me, a string of unfortunate deaths leaving me the only heir.

My anticipation ceased when I saw Bidwell waiting to greet us.

"What's wrong?"

"The steward. He died in the same accident that killed my uncle."

Filmgoers

Many winters ago the blizzard buried Negotin in white noise. Snow sealed doors, and the wind was sending SOS signals all over the town. Power lines were lying in the fields, houses went blind and breath turned to frost.

Only the old cinema stood like a lone lighthouse against the storm. Its generator pulsated like a tired heart. The theater was full, but no one spoke. When the movie began, I realized the actors were the audience themselves, levitating across the screen.

Slowly, the faceless crowd turned toward me. They weren’t watching the movie.

They wanted me to stay forever.

From Guest Contributor Ivan Ristic

Starlust

Professor Dutton had a theory that the problem with the universe was the stars. They were too greedy, and lusted after everything, until they imploded and became black holes. If we could distribute all that energy a bit more judiciously, so that it didn't bunch up so egregiously that the stars began consuming everything around them, then we wouldn't have to worry about the heat death of the universe. According to his calculations, it was also the fault of the stars that the universe was forever expanding.

"And thus, I present my plan to destroy every star in the galaxy."

Nothing

Andrea spent a lot of time thinking about nothing. To her surprise, when her parents or boyfriend asked her what she was thinking about, her reply always seemed to annoy them. The concept of nothing was so eternally fascinating. She'd try and engage them on the topic, but they insisted she was being distant.

Oh well.

Like, does nothing even exist? There's clearly something, lots of things, so it seemed to Andrea that nothing was just something we imagined.

She was so deep in thought, she failed to notice her teacher staring at her.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

Interstellar Rebellion

"Red Alert!"

Captain Spiff dashed to the bridge of his sentinel frigate, shocked at what he found. Thousands of enemy warcraft descended on the capitol planet's defenses, seemingly out of nowhere.

Emperor Devane had ruled the galaxy for more than 2700 CR (Capitol Revolutions) with no hint of rebellion. Entire systems were wiped out for causing the slightest upset to the Emperor's mood. Coordinating such an attack must have taken years, yet his daily security briefing had offered zero hint of the possibility.

Spiff's final thought was to contemplate what promotion might be available were he to defeat these insurgents.

Nothing

The engine gives out and we’re about to crash. I guide the plane as best I can and brace for impact. Then there’s blackness.

When I wake, Ted has a blank stare, and his head is twisted in an awkward position. He’s dead.

The bone in my left ankle is protruding from the skin and I’m having trouble breathing. I’m sure I’ve ruptured my ribs.

The door is jammed and I can’t walk. The airplane will soon explode and there’s nowhere to go. I say a silent prayer and close my eyes.

There’s a crackling noise, flames and then nothing.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Be Easy

Tomas nervously made his way to his seat at the very back of the lecture hall. He'd originally staked out this spot to avoid being called on during class discussion, but if it afforded him the opportunity to surreptitiously glance at his neighbors' test answers, that was just a happy accident.

He prayed this final was easy. He needed an A on the exam to ensure a passing grade. Failure meant his dreams of medical school would be over.

The first question contained the word "Gluconeogenesis."

Tomas stood and walked out of the classroom. The world needs car mechanics too.