For My Mother

Sorrow. Sorrow is crossing a river.
Every step harder than the last.
Rushing water grips my legs, pulling me down.
A single misstep and I will be swept away.

I cry out to the river bed.
I cannot reach the other side.
I cannot keep going.

You can, it says.
You can.

Anger. Anger is a searing desert.
Burning rocks scar my feet.
The weight of the sun
crushing me into the sand.

I cry out to stinging winds.
I cannot escape the scorching heat.
I cannot last the day.

You can, they say.
You can.

I must run

I cannot live in the past. The past is an echo I cannot escape, forever reverberating in my empty skull. I am attacked by the weapons of my former self, decades after I thought them vanquished. Tiny demons they are, swirling around the mind’s perimeter, poking and prodding with my own sharpened words. I am foolish. I am unworthy of love. I will be alone forever.

The future is an oceanside castle. Once sturdy in construction and crafted from the finest stones and the noblest timber, the castle now lies in ruin; smashed to pieces by the wild winds of an ocean storm. A storm of my own design. I cannot live in the future.

The Covid Blues

“Ugh. I can’t stand being in this apartment anymore.” Alice said, shaking her fists in the air.

A Friendly Visit

Dr Zog and Lieutenant Krig’s ship left hyperspace and approached the small blue planet.

“Status”, yelled Zog, eagerly awaiting their pending arrival.

Reflections upon turning 44

On the occasion of my forty fourth birthday I received a box of chocolates and an an invitation to the AARP. I recently caught up on Star Trek Discovery and all of the ads were for luxury sports cars and medicines with horrendous side effects. I’m starting to pick up a trend.

The world has decided I’m old. I am not truly bothered by this fact because I often feel old myself. My spine didn’t used to pop every time I turn my head. I’m pretty sure my feet used to be straighter. And I’m damn certain I will soon need a set of cybernetic fingers to replace my aging typing appendages.

Fortunately I have an ace up my sleeve. An 8 year old boy I call my son, and occasionally his full name: “My son you’d better have cleaned up your room this instant or there will be no more iPad for weeks!” I can see new technologies through his eyes, giving me a window into a bright and shiny future where all devices are connected, all screens have a touch screen, and children compare their subscriber counts on the playground. Blessed are the geek, for they shall inherit the earth.

A sensible system for Time Travel and Alternate Timelines.

In my stories thus far I have avoided time travel and parallel dimensions / alternate timelines for one simple reason: they don’t work. Because it’s not based on real science it’s hard to say what will work and what won’t, and movies based on time travel always have flaws. So I thought id’ try to come up with a system that makes some kind of sense given what we know of quantum mechanics.

Infinite States?

Biography

I'm a new author writing mostly hard-scifi in the near future, with the occasional side quest into far distant realms. Most of all I try to make my writing fun and funny.

During the day I work at Mozilla (the makers of Firefox) on Virtual and Augmented Reality standards and tools, and trying to ensure this new technology is used well and thoughtfully. Basically my job is to make sure Black Mirror doesn't become real.

Eyes Wide Open

Michael walked into the front office and took a seat. He sat nervously and wondered what the doctor would say about his request. After all, it's fairly unusual for an implant patient to ask for a removal. His left eye would almost certainly be blind afterwards.

Your Daughter Is a Vampire

I'm afraid your daughter is a vampire. The words still rang in Bob's ears. The content of the words were less shocking than the calm and straightforward manner the old man said them. Vampires are the fictitious villains of medieval fairy tales, yet the man used that word so casually, as if he were describing a case of the flu.