Tag: scifi

Argus – Very Short Story

When the Crown Jewels were lost in the Great War, there was little reason to continue fighting as they were the only source of power that meant anything in the galaxy and people became hopeful that maybe this would usher in an era of peace.

In the spawn of human years, that might be case, even though humans have the capability to live forever ever since they got rid of god. When god was taken out, men became gods themselves and made up their own laws and they took up residence at the centre of the galaxy where God had been hiding. God was quite surprised when we found him and he had indeed forgotten that he made us. God went under the assumption that all his creations had failed and it turned out that he was a failed god with tens of thousands of mistakes. He was quite happy before we killed him because he had at least one success.

We killed him because we were angry with the laws that bound us to our little planet. After thousands of generations and wars, we lost our home planet and no one remembers where it is. There are people alive today that are still looking for it. They believe humanity will be redeemed if we go back to our roots even though god was dead. They are a strange bunch.

Humanity had taken control of their destiny but we continue to make war. Maybe one day we will penetrate the bounds of our galaxy and maybe then we will find another race which likes fighting as much as we do and they will keep us entertained for a while. Perhaps that’s what made us so successful because we love fighting, to destroy and then rebuild. We keep the world interesting. For the time being we will remain in Argus until we go to far with our wars or maybe we can be redeemed still?

by Stamphers

When people don’t ride bicycles no-more – Very Short Story

The sky was red and bright. The paint had come off on all of the buildings and the city was brown and grey. The trees were just sticks but a few leaves still clung at the tips as if struggling but the trees were definitely dead, or so they said. Perhaps they’re just waiting for better times?

Long ago Jom remembered when there was a lot of green and the rivers were full and a lot of birds back then. The only bird he saw these days was his mother’s parrot and it wasn’t even green. All and all, he didn’t mind the change. He liked the red sky, the wind of course made his lips dry up, but other than that, not so bad. You could still breathe the air but you get quickly winded so everyone carries around Breathers, just in case, and goggles in case of a dust storm. Goggles were very popular, fashion-wise and there were many different colors, even green.

He looked at his belt and the number on the Breather was flashing purple and he started walking towards one of the many air stations. There was a line but he wasn’t worried, purple just meant he had an hour left, not that he’d suffocate if it turned red. The line got shorter as the others filled up their tanks. There was a bicycle leaning against the building, it was rusty without a chain or wheels. Long ago they filled tires with air to get where they wanted which sounded fantastical to him even though he could recall using one, once. Nowadays the wheels doesn’t touch the ground.

As he stepped out of the way for the next one, someone cut in line. The woman’s eyes were wide and it looked like she was in a lot of pain. People stepped away and let her fill her tank. She slowly calmed down and got color on his cheeks. Some people use their Breather too much and now she could not live without it. Jom shook his head and put on his goggles, his were green. Some people sure are irresponsible even in this day and age when nothing was wasted and everything was valued.

It was so much better this new way, he thought, breathing was just one more thing to think about.

© Christopher Stamfors

by Stamphers

God of Truth – Very Short Story

Step by step he climbed the stone stairs that reached towards the heavens; blocks forged by an unknown maker – an unknown civilization – in the Latin American jungle. Taking a breath to rest, James marveled at the precision the blocks had been placed. Without cement, or anything else to bind the structure together, they have managed to build something to stand the test of time. It was truly doing more with less; creativity fueled by limitation.

How they were able to build such magnificent structures with simple stone tools was simply baffling. As he stroke the stone blocks that had turned green after centuries of neglect, James felt the sun’s warming rays on his neck as it rose above the trees.

It was another day, another opportunity to unearth the mysterious of this place. For so many years they’d believed the Aztecs and the Mayans were the creators of the pyramids, when in reality, there was another people predating them both – the architects of the entire Mesoamerican world.

Continue reading “God of Truth – Very Short Story”

by Stamphers

How To Make A Short Story Work

Making stories that you wanna make, and making the stories that people wanna read, can be two different things sometimes.

I have this short story, my very first short story in fact, called “Colony Sane” that I have been working on for almost a year now.

Writing the same story for such an extensive time can be exhausting, but it is, unfortunately, necessary when you are starting off as a writer. Because in the beginning of your writing career, or any career for that matter, you improve your craft incredibly fast; making slightly better garbage each time. Hence, my story has been revised more times that I can remember.

In any case, the idea was for the story to be around 30-40 pages long. But after some reviews, it seemed that was not possible. People wanted to learn more about the characters and the world I created, which is awesome criticism, but I didn’t want to make the story as long as they wanted it to be.

After my second major revision, I received the same criticism, that the world and the characters needed to be fleshed out. At this point, I considered ignoring the critique and simply publish it as it was. But I realised that their criticism wasn’t unfounded, it was their solution to the problem that was.

You see: more words doesn’t equal a better story. In fact, some of the greatest works are short stories.

So, how do you make a short story work then?

In my case, the problem was that the readers wanted to know more because the MC (Main Character) knew things that the readers didn’t. I had left out information just to keep the story short, which is a bad idea. The readers need to know exactly as much as the MC does, this is the key to a good short story.A lot of things can happen in the background and be implicit, but as long as the MC doesn’t know what’s going on, and sometimes never will, then the readers can accept not knowing as well.

I may end up expanding the story in the future, if the demand is high enough. Much like how Hugh Howey did with the Wool Trilogy. (Strongly recommend this story, by the way)

If you are curious, about Colony Sane, you can read it for free on Tablo. I am still editing it though

by Stamphers

The City of ‘Deadlight’ – Very Short Story

He jerked his head up towards the sky and let the warming rays of the sun rejuvenate his spirits. With a deep breath, he returned to his notebook and scribbled skilfully the lines and shapes of what he saw. An hour went by and the sun slowly hid behind tall buildings that surrounded him.

As it fully disappeared, he relaxed and slumped on his bench. With a sigh, he looked around as the city darkened and a gloomy green light engulfed the city. ‘Deadlight’, he called them.

While looking around, he glanced at his sketchbook and frowned. He then stood hastily and walked down the crowded street, clenching his notebook tightly.

A shiver went down his spine as people whisked by him, chafing against his body. He tried his best to avoid them, but it was impossible, too many in such a small space.

Continue reading “The City of ‘Deadlight’ – Very Short Story”

by Stamphers