October 2024 -- 75 Word Writing Challenge -- READ THE FIRST POST!!

Daysman

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RULES


Write a story inspired by the chosen theme and genre in no more than 75 words, not including the title

ONE entry per person

NO links, commentary or extraneous material in the posts, please - the stories must stand on their own

WHEN WRITING YOUR STORY, PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS A FAMILY-FRIENDLY FORUM

All stories Copyright 2024 by their respective authors who grant the Chronicles Network the non-exclusive right to publish them here

The complete rules can be found at
RULES FOR THE WRITING CHALLENGES

Contest ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 23 October 2024

Voting ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 28 October 2024

We ask all entrants to do their best to vote when the time comes but you do not have to submit a story in order to vote as we encourage all Chrons members to take part in choosing the winning entry


The Magnificent Prize:

The Dignified Congratulations/Grovelling Admiration of Your Peers and the challenge of choosing next month's theme and genre

Theme:

Optimism

Genre:

Retrofuturism

Please keep all comments to the
DISCUSSION THREAD

We invite (and indeed hope for) lively discussion and speculation about the stories as they are posted as long as it doesn't involve the author explaining the plot



** Please do not use the "Like" button in this thread! **

 
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Hope

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, staring in awe at the clockwork puppet with the face of their queen, “do you think it will work?”

A shadow passed over the old tinker’s face – a grief, a pain,... an anger. He clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling. So much had been lost, too much. The Augments – half man, half automaton – had already attacked the queen once. They would try again.

“We can only hope,” he said.​
 
The Evolution of Optimism

Relay switches and diodes whirled as the Mechanical Man turned dials and pressed buttons. Its crew was safe in hibernation as plumes of smoke and flames shot out from the Arrow Streams space rockets engines.

The United Federation ship was nine months away, but the crew was optimistic that their Mechanical Man could follow its radiation trail, and so it did.

With their zeal and drive it learned fast and became, ‘WE ARE BORG.’
 
Taking a Flyer

Cleanbot-75 picked parade detritus from the Capitol Express slidewalk. It'd earlier watched masses of beings whisking past en route to the signing of the Universal Equality Act.
It lifted a flyer; Steamatrons, Androids, Humans, AIs – Look! Even Cleanbots! – were granted equal rights, equal dignity.

Cleanbot-75 considered its new freedoms, realizing it'd never had personal time despite decades of service.
It messaged its supervisor, Glen – Taking tomorrow off.
It'd heard museums were wonderful, but'd never been.
 
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The Mice!

Today's dateline 9024.

All human life has perished, and mice are the prominent lifeforms. There industry has expanded into steam powered mechanisms. Unfortunately all their roads streets and avenues are mazelike.

They frequently get lost and have to be encouraged with cheese or chocolate. Only white mice make out where they are at all times.

Their help must have come from running around mazes in the Twentieth Century.
 
Time & Space

I’ve been a struggling writer for decades. Struggling with bills mostly. Recently my uncle had willed me a beautiful steam powered grandfather clock. Two keys were included, one read “Time”, the other read “Space”. As I began to install the clock to the central steam system, I used the “Time” key to set the hour. Discovering another keyhole, the “Space” key unlocked a hidden drawer containing a large block of platinum. God bless my uncle.
 

Renaissance Man​

I perused the sketches, their exquisite detail as ever, impressive beyond words. My friend never ceased to amaze and delight, remaining a generous soul to any and all.

“And this?” I asked.

“When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward,” he replied.

“Flight? You jest, Leo. The realm of birds is beyond us.”

“For now, yes. Yet, the knowledge of all things is possible… with time.”
 
Were the Moone Indeed Made of Greene Cheese

1762. England and the Colonies had Constructed Clockwork Mechanisms to reach the Moone. Once there, they found it was indeed made of Greene Cheese. It came back to Earth in Millions of Pieces. It was the most Delicious Food they'd ever found. Unfortunately for them, they had only found out to get there before they learned how important it was to Earth. The Moone became a Globule, and Earth entered an Ice Age once again.
 
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Lithography

Joints burned, hands shook from nocturnal strain. Antler tools chipped and broke, but still they knapped each piece. Each perfect, the pinnacle of human skill. They knew they were the lucky few, others toiled with larger stones.

The last lith was placed, and the solstice sun blazed forth. Light, then electrons, powered through silicon channels.

A roar of elation burst from a thousand throats. The henge worked! The power of this supercomputer would save them.
 
They Paved Paradise

Sylvia was flicking through an old magazine with her grandfather.

"What are those, Grandpa?"

"Flying cars, honey. Everyone had one back then. Before they invented personal teleporters."

"And those?"

"Roads; converted into runways and landing pads for flying cars."

"And what were they? They're beautiful."

"Parks; bulldozed to make more room for more runways, and trees felled because they were hazardous for low-flying cars. And yes, they were beautiful."

"Why are you crying grandpa?"
 
The Last Hope

At length, Lord Gunthrope tore his gaze away from the vastness of his prodigious holdings, turned on his heel and left the room. He took no note of his captive.

Inside the paperweight snow globe on the mahogany desk the crazed woman unfurled from her tortured stance and retrieved a glowing flat stone from under her many petticoats.

"Siri, call Uber," she whispered urgently, "you are my last hope!"
 
Prophets With Honor

Excerpts from the documentary 2001 in 2001: A Thirty-Three Year Celebration:

INTERVIEWER: Many advances in technology that you depicted in your classic film have arrived, here in the second year of the twenty-first century. Lunar cities, human exploration of the outer solar system, cryogenic suspension, true artificial intelligence.

KUBRICK: Yes, but there was more we missed. Who imagined we'd have life extension and controlled fusion by now?

CLARKE: You always were a pessimist, Stanley.
 
Eyes on Technology

- What now? - Eyes of hope
- Press one, zero, zero, and one again
- Did it work? - watering eyes
- No
- But weren’t you the specialist? - anger etched in your eyes
- I am, but it’s not working. It’s not my fault.
Click!
- What was that? - Eyes of fear
- It activated. We’ll finally have water.
Eyes of relief
 
Here Be Comets…

“More sail, Bosun!”

“Aye aye, Cap’n.”

“How high now?”

“Two hun’erd leagues, Cap’n.”

“And they told us it couldn’t be done! Signal the squadron – ‘Full Ahead’.”

“Cap’n, look!”

As the silver sails slowly unfurled, they caught and filled with the solar wind.

“Magnificent! Just as the science officer predicted. Mr. Fletcher, how long to the Red Planet?”

“This is unknown territory, Cap’n. The charts are vague, but I calculate Mars lies three days away.”
 
Grand Theft Carbon

Intergalactic Special Agent Brasshinge Gombodlin was proud.

'Extraction has commenced from Venus and Mars. And I bring good news from Earth', he announced, ‘Our warship didn't need to fire a shot.’

'Why?' enquired the Phanonchaíocht.

'We deployed code into Earthling communication networks, causing them to doubt climate change. Even if they detect our theft of their CO2, many won't believe it. Fools. Their atmosphere will regress to pre-industrial status and they won't know how.’
 
When the world was young….

Old man Kinusi was a real waste of space. He spent all day dozing while sending his wives out hunting.

Unsurprisingly, one day they didn’t return.

Old Kinusi vowed vengeance, foaming at the mouth in rage. In time the drops of his spittle coalesced and took form as today’s internet stalkers and trolls.

His wives, forseeing this idiocy, ascended into the heavens, becoming the Pleiades sisters, where today their hearts watch over all oppressed women.
 
Dare to live life…

Kaia released rigging lines, let solar winds fill her sails and heaved on the helm, sinking into the gas giant’s gravity well. There she surfed through storm clouds and gas layers with her vessel tittering on the edge of destruction… zen like, at one with her ship.

A change of tack and with gravity assist she flew free of the clouds and shot back out into the dark safety of space, feeling exhausted and alive.
 
The Young Recruit

Dicky landed the jet car on Maria’s roof. Entering the lounge overlooking Marsport.

He sat at the table glancing at Maria, then her mom, who wore an expression that kept him in line.

He pressed for steak and fries, Maria for spaghetti meatballs.

“So are you joining Galactic Patrol, Dicky?” asked Maria’s dad.

“Yep!”

“But you might get killed in the outlands,” frowned Maria.

“No worries,” replied Dicky. “The new robotic surgeons can fix anything.”
 
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Waiting For No-show

Only two people in the waiting room: Byranon courting sleep on the bench’s streamline moderne curves; Lapenseur lost in his thoughts, gazing at the sun-filled rail tracks outside.

***

The Sunliner — Always On Time — Destination: Tomorrow, the ad says,’ cried Lapenser.
‘Tomorrow? Tomorrow never comes, La-la.’
‘Then, we’ll wait for it, No-no. It has to come.’
‘Not today….Let’s go. It’s too cloudy anyway.’
‘Tomorrow, perhaps.’ Lapenseur said as they left, ‘The future always arrives... eventually.’
 
Aqualator

"It seems to calculate much faster and more smoothly than my ink-based model".

"The food colours in the water based models always increase viscosity and surface friction, so in a posh bar with beverages in a wide range of hues I thought of alcohol for computing fluid. I'm hoping to start reducing office backlog immediately, though that might be from breathing leakage all day. Pretty, though, innit?"

"Indeed. When can we expect the gaming version?"
 

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