The Twilight Palace

Sydney looked at the atlas. There was no denying he was lost, to the point where he couldn't even be sure he was using the right map anymore. His phone had lost service hours ago.

A flash of reflected light caught his attention up ahead: some sort of structure spotted through the trees. He hurried forward hoping they'd have good WiFi.

As Sydney entered the clearing, a massive palace stood before him, with intricately carved roofs, marble fountains, and gold latticework. A white-robed fellow standing in the entrance smiled in his direction.

This looked nothing like the photos on Airbnb.

Who Cared?

Robots Contest Entry:

He tinkered for a year, ignoring his phone and only leaving the house for Wacko Wake or the hardware store. The rest was delivered.

The garage was littered with tools and metal shards. The WiFi flicked on for two hours each night so he could comb websites.

His friends had given up on him. Who cared? He was done. Done with living like an open wound, a scrap of plastic blown in someone else’s breeze.

Finally, it was time. He flipped the switch and felt an electric jolt. The eyes lit up. The battery hummed.

Then it spoke. “Yes, master?”

From Guest Contributor Faye Rapoport DesPres

Grand Targhee

The gods gathered on Mt. Olympus for an important meeting. Grand Targhee, the Titan responsible for holding up the Earth, was threatening to go on strike. Some of the more warlike gods favored a quick and violent response, but the others wanted to consider his reasons.

"You all can fly around the universe, have affairs, and fight in wars. Meanwhile, I'm stuck standing like a statue in perpetuity. I don't even have WiFi.

After hearing his complaints, the gods agreed to annihilate Grand Targhee. The task of holding up the earth passed on to Arthur Leibowitz of Albany, New York.