“Implant 6428007891” by Philip Quinn
Saw Dr. Vaughn Romo yesterday. My second consult. We discussed the various options again. The consult was free this time, but not of arrogance . . .
Saw Dr. Vaughn Romo yesterday. My second consult. We discussed the various options again. The consult was free this time, but not of arrogance . . .
Dr. Stacey Roman watched as Roy, Chief Militia for Apex building, put down the copy of Fire Next Time he had been reading to reluctantly unlock the door for her.
Time marches on! What a ridiculous cliché. If I had a minute for every time I’ve heard it, I’d . . . well, don’t get me started.
The president’s national security advisor delivered the words she had dreaded hearing: “Madam President, I’m afraid you can no longer safely appear in public.”
I am the enemy of those of blood and breath.
The year is 2078. Rampant consumption has succeeded in burning a hole through the ozone layer.
“Droplets of liquid methane began to splash on Glin’s bald head . . .”
The year is 2078. Rampant consumption has succeeded in burning a hole through the ozone layer.