Graeme ShimminThe train shuddered to a halt, its worn-out levitation systems groaning under the weight of too many passengers. Zarah pressed her face against the smudged window, squinting through the haze of pollution that perpetually shrouded the lower zones. Her watch beeped a warning: THIRD ZONE ENTERED. PENALTIES MAY APPLY.
Alexander van AkenGary stared out the window of the Wireless Fidelity high speed network train. Outside his transport packet, a worldwide web of trillions of individuals started their day. A seemingly infinite amount of bright white electrical circuits flew through the air, getting from point A to B. Many were on their way to work, just like him. Monday vibes.
Luciano RochaWe are seeing a new niche emerge: bitcoin fiction, with stories that use examples from the past, the fascination of the counterfactual, and the human capacity to imagine the future.
Mirio MellaAs I gathered my senses, I was gripped by the ominous feeling that a call in the dead of night inevitably triggers. That dread deepened as, rubbing my eyes, I saw Morticia flashing on my iPhone’s caller ID, the name my Uncle Mike and I used to jokingly refer to his humourless sister. I hadn’t spoken to her in over 18 months, so a 2 AM call from the perennial fun-sponge could only mean bad news.
Philip CharterNews about the production of an animated 21 Futures short where cyborg nodes fight to break the chain of lies holding their memories and souls hostage
Eduardo Prospero“We should have gone there instead,” Simon Derwall complained. His wife was furiously scrubbing a gigantic saucepan with a sponge, and the objection stopped her in her tracks. A deadly silence filled the air. She had explained this to him several times already.
