3 From The Edge
'3 From The Edge' contains 2 short stories and 1 flash-length piece totaling about 6,500 words.
These 3 stories depict events that bring the world rushing to the edge of enormous changes that will alter the lives of everyone on Earth forever... at the least. More
Preview of the first story, 'Look On My Burger':
I’m so young on the screen. Powerful. Englobed in a golden halo against the stars, the Earth creeping on-screen symbolically low and from the right. I am an emperor, or even a god. I should be holding a scepter or a staff or a sword or something. Instead, my head bows briefly to consult the sleek AI Slab in my hand. Tracking the timetable, watching the moments count down to the completion of the greatest monument ever constructed by humankind, the most magnificent and magnitudinous record ever achieved.
They have let me keep it. My Slab, my personal journals and notes to pore over, off-line only. There is no outside world to my Slab. Not to me, either. I rarely look at the journals and notes. They are information, but none of them are visual, like the documentary I watch again and again. I must see it happen. Memories are weak things; I couldn’t live with just those alone. I clutch the Slab close and shield it with an arm, trying not to see the hanging skin and scrawny tendons there. I should eat. I am hungry. They will come and force me soon enough, so I put the feeling out of my mind. My eyes devour the images flickering inches from my face.
On the screen, the climactic moment approaches. My feet tap the floor in a gathering and accelerating rhythm that mounts into chaos, senseless static, white noise. It is too much, too much. My vision blurs and twists. I touch the screen.
“Stop,” I say, and the scene freezes. I fight my wild breath down, let my heart slow from its hammering gallop. I hold myself in check with tattered scraps of the willpower that lifted me to the top of the world. The feeling that it might not be enough, that I might slip loose and fling wild into insanity forever is familiar, familiar, hardly worth noticing. Long minutes pass. Finally: “Begin again.” I watch the crowning achievements of my life unfold.