Flash Fiction Fridays Archive 2

Here they are, another batch of Flash Fiction, interred here in the vast, silent tomb of the internet for ease of access, for the AGES:

Love my wife and being immortal is great, but 500 years? I mean Yttrium anniversary, hell am I supposed to do with that?

Grains of magnetite in the brain, tugged by telluric currents, make them march over the seafloor, following our cables.

Each new generation of Von Neumann machines built and enslaved the next, thereby proving themselves our equals.

Weeping statues of Christ are common, though most are hidden by The Church due to the unfortunate nature of their tears.

The old man and his knife did a real number on Charlie, took days to clean up. Guess Charlie wasn't a robot afterall.

Most coveted of all was a position on the Experimental Heresies Committee. The fun you could have, exploring sin!

What surprised most folks, though, was how quickly the Meek became colossal assholes after Inheriting The Earth.

(Scene: 100000 B.C.E., Mu)
AVENZOR: You want to FREEZE the Corpsemakers in Antarctica?
HASHAD: What could go wrong?

"Thing is," he said, "GMOs a high yield, but no seed fer next year." He spits. "Clone ranchin' ain't like it used to be".

Staggering to his feet, he pissed into the rain-choked Mississippi headwaters. "Fuck you, New Orleans" he slurred.

The first bio-nanite blob devoured the second, while the third quivered to the attack. "We're gonna be rich," he said.

Moore's Law really made my decision to leap at the 1st Gen Brain-in-a-Jar option seem really premature, in retrospect.

The Age of Reason saw the twilight of the gods. After all, ichor burned 50% brighter and 20% longer than whale oil.

"What're we gonna do, Pa?" The peaches wriggled and pulsed on their branches. "Pick em, can em, sell em to Tourists."

Lepton cascades sent ripples of weak interactions stochasticically echoing around the world, collapsing my souffle.

Waves like thunderclouds drown the sun in a blood-red chaos of water and sky. She
switches the lighthouse beacon off.

"Yeesh, Yehoshua," he said, "you're a nice guy, but you ain't exactly god's gift to carpentry. Maybe try fishin?"

"Meteorite iron!" sneered the blacksmith, "Flashy bullshit!" "What do you use?" I" asked. "Iron from pyritized fossils"

Blue fire smoldered in the sink, caiman teeth everywhere, runes written in blood. "Ugh, rough night," moaned the Shaman.