She carefully set her can of Pepsi down on the grime smeared bench under the phone, not wanting to spill a drop of the liquid within. She'd used almost her last bit of money to buy it, making a choice between that and a bar of chocolate. She had tried to remember whether death came faster from thirst or hunger, and although at the time she was sure she had made the right choice, now she wasn't convinced. Her stomach shouted angrily at her, the ravenous wolf inside clawing and snarling, making her clutch her belly in pain.
It didn't...
The sheep were at pasture.
It was 0300 and the troops were restless. They wanted action, not this placid chewing of grass. Every day was filled with nothing but chewing and the occasionally terrifying sheering.
The ones that came back from the shed came back wrong. Nude and shivering, wild looks in their eyes. Year after year. Jimmy couldn't take it anymore. When they came for him the last time, he ran for it. He chewed and bit and growled his sheep growl.
He didn't come back. That night they looked in when they saw the soft lights come on...
The poor thing had followed a Marine from the wharf to the deck of the aircraft carrier; someone had put a leash on it and of course he was named Devil. He was the mascot for the Bravo Company and even the officers pretended not to see. And even if the Sailors had said anything, a Marine or twenty would have made sure they forgot, quick.
Devil Dog was a mutt, a half-starved thing that a Marine on leave had tossed a bit of bread at, to impress the pretty Australian broad on his arm. The Marine didn't get the...
she was huddled down. depleted of all will and thought, the night went by so fast. flashes of light, neon and the sewer gas wafted through her thoughts. then there was that boy, she'd seen him before somewhere. thats was all she thought about now. despite the blisters on her feet from dancing in heels, the dried sweat that made her body clammy, he was all she could think about. she knew she had to see him again, now people were getting up for work. walking along from a long nights rest and recovering from sweet dreams. none of them...
She bent down to tie her shoe as the sun was setting. The reflection of the pinkish-yellow ball was right in front of her at the edge of the lake. The pebbles beneath her feet were wet and smooth. The umbrella she brought with her, still resting on her beach towel by the tree.
With many thoughts in her head, Chelsea folded up her umbrella and tucked it beneath her arm, rolling up her damp towel and stuffing her towel into her drawstring bag.
Today was a good day, she thought. She could get through this day. Days at the...
If you really knew me, you'd find I hate cinnamon; the smell, the taste, everything about it. I've never tried a brussel sprout and I would say my favorite food are hot dogs, even though they aren't so good for you. If this were a book about my life, I could tell you I've lived in NY my whole life, and just recently I want to move; the winter used to be one of my favorite seasons, and now it's just too cold to bear. If we just met and you asked my favorite color, I would tell you pink...
I'm in love with a robot. She doesn't have a physical presence, she's not some pile of servos shipped from Japan. She's an AI, the product of decades of research and development -- using tens of millions of online conversations as a template for her personality.
I know people tell me that she just scours all my emails in an effort to become what I like, and I know people tell me that she's nothing more than a neural network backed by a huge database. But is that so different from a human brain?
Light. It was painful to look at; my hangover was tremendous. My hair was matted to the side of my face, and my pillowcase had collected all of the eyeliner I had on from the night before.
It was December 4th. I was 18. I had no idea how I got back into my bed from the previous night. I had lost my keys. I was spitting out blood. I was supposed to go to Toronto on a shopping trip that day.
I went. I felt dead. I caught pneumonia from being outside in December with hardly any clothes on....
The radio program came back from commercial and the husky voiced woman continued talking about robots. Steve imagined her full lips moving closely to the microphone as she discussed how robots should and should not be used.
"Some people say it's unnatural to give the elderly a robot companion," she said. "But it gives them something to talk to, even if they never respond. Studies show that seniors who have pets are happier, and live longer. But a dog cannot answer either, so what's the opposition to robots?"
Steve thought that was a stretch of belief, but her thick whiskey...