This flash fiction was originally published by formercactus in November 2018. It is about one possible future of our planet. Quite a few of my stories have this theme, in one form or another. Hard to avoid the subject given the news reports about how we harm the environment.

Told By Clouds

by DL Shirey

From here the neat rows of apple trees look like corduroy covering the roll of hills. You can’t tell the leaves are lifeless from this altitude, only gray-brown. It’s January, but not winter. There are no seasons any more, no storms or snow or wind. Not since the low clouds formed three years ago and never dissipated. Our daylight world is now perpetually dim, the sky covered in thick frosting. The only observable change is told by clouds: day or night, dully backlit or dead dark.

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David Bowie always fascinated me, so I thought it was about time I worked him into a story. Not that I ever wanted to have sex with Bowie, but that’s the fun of science fiction– if it’s done right, almost anything can happen. This short story was published In October 2018 in issue 14 of Riggwelter, one of my favorite online journals. Unfortunately, Riggwelter is no more.

Couple

by DL Shirey

ROBIN: What I miss most about Edward is his kiss. The sandpaper grit of unshaved whiskers around his lips. Feeling the corners of his mouth pull up in a smile before inviting in my tongue. A thousand subtleties that foretold a mood, not for Edward, but for the lovemaking to follow. I could tell, simply by his kiss, if he was going to be playful or forceful or passive in bed. The tension in his lips. The way his tongue danced. And the degree of pressure between our mouths.

His kiss cannot be reproduced. That’s why I don’t kiss when I Couple, even though the men I’m with look exactly like my husband.

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What events would occur in the preliminary phases before time travel was perfected? To me, the electronic transmission of messages through time would be developed before a living creature or an object crossed that threshold. At least that’s the premise for this short story. Published in September 2018 by Theme of Absence Magazine, they were also quite kind to do an author interview.

In Time

by DL Shirey

Dear Ersei,
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This will sound strange coming from me, but after tomorrow you will never see me again. The funny thing is you may be reading this while I sleep in bed beside you.
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The rumors of Time Capsule are true. Messaging can now be sent backwards in time. Not forward yet, as I understand it.
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That’s the thing about all this time technology frap, it’s impossible to verify. I may be pounding out words that go no place except to the guys in TT.
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They may be reading this now and having a good laugh. Joke’s on me. Enjoy yourselves, belkholes.
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Writing thank you notes is a lost art, one I only found after marrying my wife. Sometimes it’s a point of conflict between us, as this story shows. Published in September 2018 in the now defunct journal, Gravel.

No, Thank YOU

by DL Shirey

My wife holds her mouth a certain way when I don’t pay full attention to something she said: lips parted, jaw unhinged, bottom teeth standing out like white-helmeted soldiers. These troops mass at the border between impatience and anger as Lynn waits for my response. Breakfast is over, the last of the coffee poured, I am half-listening, half-reading the newspaper. More the second than the first.

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There are stories that make me proud I wrote them and there’s this one. Writing sometimes takes me places that aren’t pleasant, with characters who are unlikable, where a scalding shower might be needed to wash off the scum. Fortunately, there are journals like Close To The Bone who love this kind of stuff. They published my story in October 2018.

Inevitable Lies

by DL Shirey

The conversation needn’t be engrossing, pleasing would do. Pleasant enough for Della to ask one question: ‘What kind of movies do you like?’ If she chose to ask, she knew how the evening would go, just not how it might end. Like a good movie, it’s better when the end comes as a surprise.

Della never tried the same bar twice, yet the script was always the same: guys asked if she was alone, plied her with drink and said anything to make small talk larger. They were looking to get laid, but so was Della. While they took furtive glances at her unbuttoned V of skin, she searched the men for lies.

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