Her Cup Runneth Over

“Seriously,” Jenn said, holding up the goop-laden cup, sticky brown liquid coursing over her hand, “what does corporate think coffee looks like?”

Walter sighed. Reclined in his chair, he threw his ball up in the air, watching it bounce against the ceiling.

“I’m sure if you sent a complaint,” he said, “they’ll get right on it.”

“Right on it.” Jenn rolled her eyes. “Six months time, then?”

“If we’re lucky.”

“And if we tell them productivity’s down twelve percent?”

“Layoffs.” The ball landed in his outstretched hand and he tossed it up again. “And because of budget cuts, no new coffee for sixteen months.”

Jenn shook her head. “Stupid corporate.”

She picked her up cup and went to the window. The Earth was rising, just over the grey, rocky horizon, a blue light amongst the canvas of stars.

“They’ve got no idea what it’s like out here.”

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Word Count: 147

This is for Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and artycaptures.wordpress.com for providing the photo prompt!

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Party Above the Clouds

Laughter echoed through the dirigible. Wine corks popped, letting foam splash into thin glasses. The band played on and the party swayed with the music.

Anna pressed her nose up against the glass, looking at the ground far below, almost lost in the wreath of clouds. She remembered looking down before, when the cityscape had spread out in a mosaic. Bright lights had shimmered amongst mile-high skyscrapers. Other dirigibles had drifted in the wind, like floating lanterns burning bright. When the third moon had risen, everything had lit up in waves of blue.

There was no light below now, only a marbled darkness beneath the churning clouds. Lightning flashed and she could almost hear the crack of thunder through the soundproofed glass.

“A toast!” her father cried, her hair hanging in disarray, his tie undone.

He climbed onto a table, tapping his glass. The dancing stopped and the music slowed as every head turned to look at him.

“A toast to our home!” He raised his glass and the blue wine shifted like an ocean tide. “To Beovorn!”

“To Beovorn!” the others echoed.

Anna watched a cascading orange cloud, moving slowly towards them, reaching out with tendrils of fire.

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Word Count: 199

This is for Sunday Photo Fiction. Photo credit to A Mixed Bag.

Doctor Who Discussion: The BBC Marketing Team Needs to be Fired

Welcome to the penultimate Doctor Who Discussion, as Jaden C. Kilmer and J.A. Prentice discuss the first part of the Series 10 finale, World Enough and Time. For our discussion of the poem from which the title comes, see our upcoming series J.A. Prentice talks about Elizabethan poetry while everyone else falls asleep.

Read on for almost as many SPOILERS as the BBC Marketing Team has already provided.

Doctor Who Discussion: Sometimes a God Turns Into a Seal and You Just Gotta Deal With It

Welcome to this week’s Doctor Who Discussion! Jaden C. Kilmer and J.A. Prentice discuss the latest episode The Eaters of Light, noteworthy for being written by a returning classic series writer, Rona Munro.

Read on for our thoughts and spoilers.

Doctor Who Discussion: Two Writers Try to Remember How Nails Work

Welcome to Living Authors’ Society‘s latest Doctor Who Discussion. Jaden C. Kilmer and J.A. Prentice take a look at Saturday’s episode, Lie of the Land, the conclusion to the story begun in Extremis. Read on for our thoughts.

There are SPOILERS ahead!

Doctor Who Discussion: References at the End of the Greatest Title Ever

Welcome to Living Authors’ Society’s latest Doctor Who discussion with J.A. Prentice and Jaden Kilmer. This week we’ll be discussing Pyramid at the End of the World, which might be the best title any human being has ever created, by Harness and Moffat. Read on to find out if the episode lives up to the title.

Be warned. There are SPOILERS ahead.

Engaging the Enemy

First contact had not gone as planned. Two dozen dead littered the forest, lying amongst fallen leaves. Rivers ran with their blood.

Only six crew remained, their minds trapped in the heat of battle. She’d been left in charge, the only senior officer left standing.

“Sir,” a crewmate asked, “what’s our objective?”

She looked through the looming shadows of the trees to where the ship was perched on the mountain, its sweeping white lines looking delicate as glass. To get to it, they would have to walk through a mile of unknown territory.

“Forward,” she ordered. “And eyes on the trees.”

They crept on. Rifles swung at the slightest sound. Even their own footsteps made them cringe.

She kept her chin up. She couldn’t let them know she was as terrified as they were.

The trees gave way to the mountain path, the safety of the ship. They all sighed in relief as the hatch opened.

The aliens descended upon them, white teeth shining in crescent mouths, pink, tan, and brown skin gleaming with sweat, five slim fingers clutching rifle triggers.

She struggled, but they were too fast, their weapons too deadly.

The humans showed her crew no mercy.

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Word Count: 199

This is for Sunday Photo Fiction. Photo credit goes to A Mixed Bag.