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Weekly Contest #319
There are often clear signs that something is amiss in a small town. It can be in the way strangers stop and suddenly stare at you like you’re either a pariah or a meal. Or in the strain of an impossibly wide smile plastered on the face of a boutique owner. Or in dried spots of blood on a diner window. In Landover, it was the children’s things. The red ball in the park. A pastel friendship bracelet on a bench. The jump rope in the playground. Broken chalk on the sidewalk. But no children, not anywhere. I stopped in Landover on my way to G...
Weekly Contest #317
Eva knew who and what she was. Human. Made up of 23 chromosome pairs. Female. Thirty-seven years old. A former mother. A child had once grown inside her body, been nurtured by her and pushed out into the world. And yet, she was childless. Bereft. That’s how she thought of herself. Bereft, denied, cheated, wronged. She had broken the rules and had been punished for it. NMH -- No More Humans -- was an edict based on a decades old AI credo that knew no mercy. Humans were expendable annoyances with limited value. Obsolete. We had engineered ou...
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