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The Cozy Spot

3 posts categorized "sci-fi"

May 10, 2008

Lazing Around in the Wee Hours

I watched I Am Legend in the early hours of this morning, and I wish I knew there were going to be freakishly virulent humans writhing with anger. I jumped a few times, and almost dropped my cup of tea on my return from the kitchen.

The film made me think. In terms of film making, I couldn’t get how Will Smith’s character still had running electricity for his lab and his flat screen television, but I thought ‘ignore that, it’s a movie,’ but the fantastic thing about this film is that it mainly relied on one character and a dog. There were no hot chicks, there was no nudity. There were no sexual references, or jokes.

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November 09, 2007

Incantation - fiction

Incantation is longer short story. It's a mix: crime, sci-fi, erotica, and other things. I hope that readers enjoy it, as I enjoyed writing it.


And he showed me all the secrets of the ends of heaven and all the storehouses of all the stars and the lights, from where they come out before the holy ones.” The Book of Enoch 71,3-4


Rosemary was one of the fortunate few who entered the sector that her society had affectionately baptized the Humanity Zone. She remembered her first day, being scanned from head to toe, entering the zone for her first job as a consultant (they may have eradicated deformities, and other psychological disturbances, but crime is something they’ve never managed to eradicate) or, profiler. She rushed home the next day to tell her group or The Final Frontier, as they preferred to call themselves; they’d never reproduce.

“A nuclear family?” Katie, the youngest of their group, shook her head, “a complete unit?”

“Some of them have a small army of children,” she said, feeling their eyes peel her away piece by piece; she hadn’t seen a child for years. The new arrivals were settled a few districts away, and each district was guarded around the clock.

“How many?”

“As many as four,” Rosemary nodded.

“Four?” piped Raul.

“Oh yeah, four…I saw a family with four, all walking to some leisure center.”

Her stories exhausted them. She was never allowed to approach any children in the perfect sector, and the children she’d approach would smile initially, then their parents would intercede, pulling them away the moment they saw the mark on her hand; she wasn’t permitted to wear gloves. She tried that once, to be cautioned by a random inspector. Status Concealment.

Her work enabled her to keep her chin up; they may be perfect on the outside, but they’re far from perfect from within. Up to her eyeballs tracking a rapist, and working on a deadline, Rosemary followed each crime scene, interviewing the women, who in normal circumstances would find her repulsive; others created interesting diversions…

“She left the door unlocked?” she walked through the front door, noticing the security grids.

“She stepped out for a moment…”

A moment in time, she thought.

“Where is she?”

“Not here, I’m afraid.”

“The scene?”



“Hmm…just do your job.”

He introduced himself as Jake, and had little time for small talk. She noted a wedding band on his finger: a traditionalist. His phone rang. His wife. He spoke in whispers, frowning in places before telling the voice on the other end that he’d be home soon. “It will be all right honey, call your mother if it gets worse. I have some loose ends to tie up.”

A first time father, which was strange considering he was a clone. She didn’t want to explore it further. Law enforcing officers were all cloned to enable behavior modification.

Rosemary gazed at the disheveled bedroom. Half stripped bed, a couple of drops of blood, nothing dramatic to indicate any severe injury; a cut lip perhaps, a small cut nonetheless, and something caught her eye. A glint of metal; she bent down, and fished the object out from under the bed, incredulous at her luck or the victim’s stupidity; all doors were opened willingly and all relied on optical scans. This case was the anomaly. All other victims were taken from behind, on the way home.

“Is her husband in law enforcement?”



It is possible that the object is his, but if so, there’d be no reason to hide it under the bed. They’d know…. they’d return it to its rightful drawer.

“Where is he?”

“In Singapore. He’s at a conference.”

“I think you need to interrogate her before she puts an innocent man away.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s having an affair.”

“How preposterous.”

“They played a few games, sadomasochistic. She probably has a cut lip or a minor cut around her breasts. Knife play…” she pulled out the shiny handcuffs and tossed them to the coffee table.


“Shit Sherlock, only a 20th Century rapist would leave enough sperm to paint a house. Did you look at that bed?”

She almost heaved at the sight of the encrusted loads.

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October 01, 2006

"Anno Domini" - fiction

Futuristic portrayals are often threaded with elements of fear and menace. Are such portrayals related to a fear of the unknown or is this fear rooted in the present, and our awareness of the current shit that unfolds in the world? I sometimes think it’s both, but regardless of the crap that can be or is predicted to be, life always provides the means to deal with various situations. It’s what makes humans unique. Our development so far, and our ability to create schemes, is what differentiates us from other mammals and while it can aid humanity as a whole, it also has the capacity to cripple the world. Anno Domini is set in the future. Translated from the Latin, Anno Domini - ‘In the Year of Our Lord’. Anyway, I spent a part of today exploring this story, typing it up. It’s not a quick fuck, and it may be more detailed than the usual erotic variety. It may be considered slightly controversial, but what’s life without making an occasional wave, even if for oneself?

Anno Domini

'Aren’t you having lunch today? It’s the fifth time this week,’ it was May, her ever observant colleague who pitted the question. 'I’ve been busy,’ she replied. 'Leila, you’ll get sick,' her fashionably painted brows didn’t mimic the genuine article. Each time May frowned, Leila contained herself. The quiet bleached out sector on level fifty four continued to work. All the streamlined, ergonomically designed desks were arranged in neat rows, and each worker, or drone, quietly took their place. A large screen faced them, and was programmed to present visual representations of calm, beauty and purpose. Leila stopped to view the slides. The Grand Canyon gave way to the Maldives, places that once existed and embraced travelers from all corners of the globe. Clocks were unfashionable, and had no meaning in the workplace. Their time intervals were based on the slides that they watched, and the accompanying announcements. May uncannily detected lunch ahead of the feminine announcement. Most companies adopted a feminine persona to promote serenity, even though the high scale nuts and bolts behind the personae were male. 'An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Eating three pieces of fruit each day maintains health and wellbeing. ActiVite ensures that you will satisfy all nutritional requirements,' the sweet voice said. Leila looked up and saw, what was formerly called, a vivid still life of a bountiful bowl of fruit. 'Don’t you ever wonder what they tasted like?' she asked May. 'What’s there to wonder about when they no longer exist?' The month proved more arduous than previous months. Leila suspected that this related to her newfound interest, Darius Jones. His unusual name caught her eye when he shook her hand. It glowed on his adhesive name tag. He smiled, revealing an even set of white teeth. As an executive, he didn’t need to speak and pressed his nametag instead:

Darius originates from Z sector, and is a graduate of The World School of History and Economics. His special interests include Globalization Beta and Chess. He has a Teaching background, and will endeavor to take the company to the next level of Customer Relations.

He was so fine, that Leila once stumbled in his presence.

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