microfiction

It hadn't been raining when she left work.  That mess had only started when she was already halfway home.  Not that her day had been going well.  She was only walking home because her car wouldn't start, Kyle wasn't answering his phone, and she didn't have roadside assistance, so rather than sit and wait for her brother to pick up, she decided to walk home because tomorrow was payday so she didn't even have the money for a tow.  The rain was just the cherry on top of an already fucked day.

Kate didn't see the old man until he was already in front of her, his hand reaching out in the rain for her face.  She was so shocked, she froze, and then felt a jolt of electricity as his hand touched her face.  She jerked away just as he collapsed in front of her.

"Don't tell them," he said, and then his body crumbled into dust.

(This one's a bit different, it's the first in a series.)

Devotional polytheist living a monastic lifestyle centered on curiosity, simplicity, and joy.  Exploring the intersection of technology and spirituality.

Writing sci-fi stories and other things too: markmcclure.xyz Casting in the word shallows.

I've got 8 parts of this one written.  I was going through old Obsidian notes yesterday when I came across it.  I'll post one scene a day - that's how it's written, one very short scene at a time.  A lot of my fiction over the last few years ends up like that.  Short scenes strung together in a series.