humanity

The evolution of humanity, from one advancement to the next.

Little Lightning
“Do you remember what I told you, Little Lightning?” “Grandma, do you have to call me that? I’m not seven anymore. I’m seventeen. I don’t need your nicknames anymore.”
By E. L. Maloney5 years ago in Futurism
Ordinary
A boy is sitting atop the pylon. “The fear of never falling in love and the tears after losing the feelings of what you thought love was” was tattooed in bold, neat letters across Ignatius’ back. “In humility count others more significant than yourselves” was tattooed in the same style across Uriel’s chest. At least that’s what I think their names were: it was the label on their cages – Ignatius ascending in front of me, Uriel behind me. “Ascension in progress, attention. Ascension in progress, attention,” the cube atop the pylons would radiate – I say radiate, because I don’t think I can hear.
By Rebeka Bojboi5 years ago in Futurism
An Unknown Love Story...
It was so cold. The mist was lashing out on my freezing cheeks. My hands, red and cracked were stuffed deep in my pockets. My feet were wet and I was in a hurry. I was on my way home, a sad, bed bug ridden, no electric lightning, with a shared commode kind of place. But my room was private. A small corner, with a dollar store shower liner that had a growing purple stain in the middle of it, provided a little bit of privacy in an abandoned house the government hadn't seized yet. I should feel grateful having space of my own where I can lay my head. But grateful wasn't a word most of us who lived in Panpe used. The rain was really coming down now. The night sky dark and moonless. I turned left onto the dirt path that lead to the house. The trees were swaying in the wind and rain, how it sounds like music, I thought, that's when I heard the familiar sound, a terrifying squelch that sends shiver own my spine everynight notifyng those of us still out the city lights were shutting off for the next twelve hours. The Royal Reserve Police were about to gallup through town looking for drifters. I continued trudging along the path, when a silvery glint caught my eye. Curious, I walked toward the object, looking sideways to make sure it wasn't a trap, some drifter looking to rob me of my bed bug stained overcoat. Seeing no one, I crouched down, squinting in the cold rain. There, almost completely uncovered from the eroded soil, was a long, silver necklace. I reached out, touched it, not believing what I was seeing was real, with shaky hands, I plucked it out of it's watery grave. A large, silver locket, a bombay heart pendant. Old, lost, forgotten. Glinting in the dark moonless night, a long necklace, something from a different era, beautiful, mysterious, expensive. I slipped it over my head, expecting the Royal Reserve Police Service to arrest me for theft from the Earth kind charge. The necklace reached my belly button. I tucked the cold, mud encrusted, necklace under my shirt, the locket pressing against my warm skin. Hearing the familiar galloping of the Royal Reserve Police Service, there familiar steps behind me, I yelled "just tying my laces" not wanting my neck controller to ping with a warning. I'd already had two warnings this year. A third ping in as many months and I'd land in the bullpen with the other drifters. I continued walking home, checking behind me every so often, anxious someone already knew about my secret find. Once home, in my candle lit, windowless room, I brought the necklace out of my shirt. I smiled as I looked at my cherished treasure. Holding the locket, My imagination led me to a vision, one of love, admiration, and wealth. Prying the mud encrusted locket open, on the left side I found an inscription 'Enid, be the star that never fades... Love Ross' on the right side, a picture faded, black and white , dirty, an unknown face erased from its time in the ground.
By Petunia5 years ago in Futurism
Touch-Starved
When you spill a glass of juice on your carpet, you usually take a breath and figure out how to clean it up. When your house is flooded with juice… go ahead and tell me you don’t think about burning the whole thing down.
By Bonnie Joy Sludikoff5 years ago in Futurism
It's O.K.
“It’s o.k.” I mumbled the words eyes fixed on the letters I had scratched into the bark less tree in front of me with brittle broken nails. The rasped breathing of some maddened monstrous beast disappeared into the curl of mutilated plant life. My eyes turn in its direction waiting for the dark shape to fade, my deteriorating mind repeating in circles the same thing over and over, “It’s o.k.” the letters manifesting before me even in mangled shapes from leaf and branch.
By Jo May5 years ago in Futurism
Plantopia
Lush, bright, light and dark greens fill my retinas as I scan over the area before me, the place once known as the Sahara Desert. What was once sand, now an endless field of green consumed by millions of cacti bar one small section in the centre. Twenty square miles of unchanged desert. The only area on earth where humans still thrive.
By Kelly Butcher5 years ago in Futurism
The Creature
Laws, rules, commands, mandates, measures, regulations… Engraved on myself like the loving kiss of a mother, like the warmth of her lips, like comforting memories of a childhood that I skipped. I must obey. My existence is as futile as trying to find an explanation for it.
By Jose Molina5 years ago in Futurism
Dearest You
Dearest You, Welcome to the Digital World. There are 4 rules I've cultivated on here: 1. “Privacy is something you can sell but you can’t buy it back.”- Bob Dylan.
By Sarah Goods5 years ago in Futurism
Era of Pink Skies
The era of pink skies determines an idea of waking up our “sleepy-sad-stupid people” by blasting the truths of the world through the microphones of the clouds. One where we may all hear it. At the same time and hear the correction of what needs to be said. This will be where we all hear the crucial clues. Without suggestions of the mess we purposely continued to live in. We will entwine greater satisfaction to merely everybody that deserves it but also to those who want it to escalate in ways so proper it would correct the issues pressuring the world to collapse. With the weights of despairs, sorrows, imprecision, and cluelessness we have borrowed an idea to set action of allowing our rotations to be set forth without actually purposefully doing any of that. It exclaims truancy from the most powerful of people but the sirens blaring from the powerless are now beginning a pause that won’t reciprocate until the fight is over. This fight figures a lapse of countless attempts of trying to make the world a better place.
By Keanna Barry 5 years ago in Futurism
Mercury LOX
“You were so much more interesting when you weren’t here.” The cutest thing anyone has ever said to me at a party, in the stairwell, as I departed.
By Lionel Bawden5 years ago in Futurism
Post-Pan Locket
It was that locket, that goddamn heart-shaped locket that caused this. We were safe, well, as safe as you can be in this hellish wasteland. We survived the pandemic where millions did not. We survived the post-pan wars that happened, the Chinese invasion, the nuclear disasters, the desert marauders.
By Adam Hoffman5 years ago in Futurism
Ocean away
Sweet nothing, at least that is what he would say, In a merrily manner. This is not bitter, this is needed. There may be nothing but building that into something is sweet. Imagine, not if, but when our work pays off.
By Kali5 years ago in Futurism