Amid the rubble of the doomed world, strange visitors descend. They shepherd a cluster of survivors, eking out scant resources and quelling fear with soporific remedies. Meagre nourishment suffices: human bodies waste, but precious minds are preserved. The anaesthetised congregation slumber through the end days, harbouring their legacy of dreams.
Tomorrow, ships will transport them to a distant outpost to start again. They will awaken in captivity, blinded by an alien sun, bound by the offer of redemption.
Today, history flows through their collective veins like a dormant signature. Tributaries of the past, dreaming of a future ocean.
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FlashFlood's 2020 Award Nominees
We'd like to mark the end of 2020 with a little celebration of this year's FlashFlood writers. Congratulations to the following wri...
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We'd like to mark the end of 2020 with a little celebration of this year's FlashFlood writers. Congratulations to the following wri...
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How’d you do it, girl? Waitressing part-time at Steak ‘n’ Shake since the day after your sixteenth birthday, working weekends through high s...
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I knew a man who owned 150 items. One hundred of them were books. He was extremely specific about this number. Two plates, two bowls, one po...
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