For those of you who are interested in reading or writing military fiction (the same genre which brought us Starship Troopers and Ender’s Game), check out Bullet Points Magazine! They are accepting submissions!
They are a military fiction magazine that captures the complexity, tragedy, and hope of warfare and violence in human and nonhuman society.
My story, “The Bee Wrangler,” just made it into their AI edition.
The 9th edition of Bullet Points Magazine explores AI in warfare from multiple angles: AI run amok (in some very unexpected ways), the loyalty of AI on the battlefield, or more reflective uses of AI after the fighting has stopped, and sometimes, the real fighting begins (as explained in the magazine’s introduction). There’s also a funny story about sentient bullets.
“The Bee Wrangler” depicts the tale of a former drone operator trying to overcome the trauma of war by using the military tech installed in her brain in a quite unexpected way—to save the bees!
Monica’s gifts were legendary: a quilt stitched from shirts they’d torn on hikes, a charm necklace made of screws fallen from their barn, a music box rigged from lightbulbs and wire that played their song.
Rose’s gifts were… less legendary.
A birdhouse that collapsed mid-breeze.
A mug that leaked.
A robotic parrot that sang out of tune and then promptly escaped.
This year, Rose vowed to do better.
She gathered Monica’s old gifts and fed them to the UpCycler, piece by piece with care.
On UpCycle Day, she handed Monica a palm-sized projector. It flickered to life—playing scenes of laughter, kisses, and quiet afternoons sipping tea in their garden.
Monica stared, eyes shining. “You UpCycled our time together into a gift.”
Rose smiled. “I finally made something that lasts.”
Author’s Note: For those of you who read solarpunk, you know that it’s a genre that depicts humanity using technology to live in harmony with the Earth. One of the values emphasized in solarpunk is reusing and recycling items, rather than wasting them—as we do in our current day and age.
Thus the idea of UpCycle Day came to me. Unlike Christmas or birthdays in our world, where people fall into consumerism and buy a large number of gifts that end up eventually filling a landfill, the idea of UpCycle Day is that it’s a day when people turn their old junk into something useful or sentimental or both.
Let me know what you thought of this concept.
And if you enjoyed this story, feel free to share it with your friends and to subscribe below for more!
When chronic tardiness meets quantum physics—and it all goes horribly wrong.
“Always Late? It might not be your fault. Conducting a study in the field of quantum physics. Tardy folks needed. You will be compensated. – Professor Green”
The flyer for the study was in Mia’s hand. She was always about thirty minutes late wherever she went. It was starting to become a problem at work and in her dating life. In desperation, she agreed to volunteer for the study and planned to show up at the professor’s house at 3:00pm. It was weird the professor had her come to her home instead of the university. Yet if the professor could fix Mia’s chronic tardiness, she supposed location didn’t matter much.
Of course, Mia arrived at the woman’s house at 3:30pm. Before Mia could even knock, the door swung open. A middle-aged woman in pajamas answered. Mia wondered if she had gone to the right address.
“Ah, perfect!” The woman beamed. “You’re late. I’m Professor Green. Nice to meet you, Mia. Please. Come in.”
“You’re happy I’m late?” Mia stepped inside.
“It’s not your fault.” Professor Green winked. “At least, that’s the working hypothesis.”
Without wasting any time on small talk, the professor led Mia downstairs. Once they reached the basement, Mia’s muscles went rigid. It was dark, the only light being the white glow of a computer monitor. There was a mess of wires connecting the CPU to a headset on the desk. The headset looked like a mechanical crown of thorns.
Mia took an involuntary step backward. “What is all this crap?”
Professor Green patted one of the computer chairs next to the desk. “Let me explain to you how all this crap works, my dear.”
Mia told herself she wasn’t afraid of some kooky pajama-clad professor. She took a seat. “You said it’s not my fault I’m always late?”
Professor Green sat in the other chair. “Your chronic tardiness may have to do with your brain’s perception of time. It may be out of sync with the rest of the universe.”
It was true that Mia always felt out of sync. Apparently, it was all the universe’s fault. Stupid universe. “What could I even do about that?” Mia asked.
Professor Green grabbed the crown of wires. “I believe I can use my temporal enhancer to get you in sync.” Professor Green placed the temporal enhancer lightly atop Mia’s head and typed a long string of equations on her computer that looked like another language.
“You better not fry my brain,” Mia said, trying to sound braver than she felt.
The professor didn’t respond.
“So how does this thing work?” Mia asked.
“Have you heard of the Observer Effect?”
“No.”
“It’s the idea that quantum phenomena is affected by the observer.” Professor Green inspected the connection the temporal enhancer had with the computer. “If I change the way your brain observes time, hopefully I can not only change the way you interact with time, but the way time interacts with you.”
Mia swallowed. “Have you tried this on anyone else?”
A ghost of a smile tugged at the professor’s lip. “You’re the lucky first.”
“The hell I am.”Mia’s fingers went to the crown of wires.
Professor Green clucked her tongue. “I wouldn’t take that off if I were you. I’m doing some very fine calibrations. At the Planck level in fact. It’s a unit of time so small it’s ten to the negative twentieth power the size of a photon. If I’m even one digit off, you could end up—” Professor Green scratched her head. “Hmm, I guess I don’t know what would happen to you if I was that far off.”
Sweat trickled down the back of Mia’s neck. Professor Green didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. The professor clacked away at her keyboard, humming contentedly. A light static zapped different parts of Mia’s head. Mia realized she had been wrong. Some experiment that messed with her brain wasn’t the answer to overcoming her bad habits. It was insanity.
“Screw this.” Mia grabbed the temporal enhancer.
“Stop that!” The professor clutched at Mia’s wrists before she could pull the device off.
“Get off of me!” Mia shoved the professor’s hands away. The woman’s elbow flew backward, hitting the keyboard. Numbers spooled rapidly across the screen.
Professor Green’s eyes went wide as hubcaps.
Shit. That’s not good. Before Mia could ask what was happening, a powerful burst of electricity exploded outward from the crown of wires, filling the room with blinding light.
Mia screamed. She was no longer in Professor Green’s basement. She was now lying on cracked, burning Earth. Mia’s skin turned red and blistered against the ground. She jumped to her feet. It was hard to see or breathe because the air was thick. It tasted toxic too. She coughed and struggled for breath as she squinted up through the haze, jumping from foot to foot on the scalding Earth. Through the mist, she made out the sun. The now red and enormous sun.
A horrifying fact from school came to her unbidden. A description of the death of the sun. The death of the solar system. The end of time.
Professor Green’s calculations were indeed off. Very off. Mia was no longer just thirty minutes late.
She was now five billion years too late.
The End:
Author Note: Thanks for reading my story! I have struggled with chronic tardiness throughout my life. To the point where one of my doctors even called me, Little Miss Suzie Late Pants (btw my name’s not Suzie).
Upon learning about how our observations can potentially impact reality, I have often wondered just how far this could go.
Good news, all! I recently got a flash fiction published in the scientific journal Nature.
You can read it here. If you want a quick, fun, five-minute read about an eccentric vagabond on the subway who has a paper clip that could potentially enable time travel…or destroy the universe…check out my piece.
Nature magazine publishes flash fiction pieces of hard sci-fi. If you yourself are interested in getting published in Nature, check out their submissions guide.
My micro-fiction on chemotherapy, “The Red Devil,” is a part of this anthology.
The anthology is a fun collection of stories to keep on a coffee table. Each story only takes about 30 seconds or less to read. For anyone looking to write micro-fiction, or for those who have limited time for reading these days, I would highly recommend you check it out.
The story above is my short work of absurdist, comedic flash fiction. It’s just a 6 minute read. You can read it for free today, but it’ll be behind a paywall tomorrow.
If you are looking for a place to publish your flash fiction, Havok is a great choice. They have a variety of different genres and monthly challenges. Their editors also worked with me carefully to help me craft the best possible version of this story. And their communication was quite good.
If you are looking to read quality flash fiction, you should definitely sign up to read their collection. There’s lots of creative, humorous content on their website. Each story is about a 5 minute read. Having access to the Havok catalog is only $5 a year.
So check it out! I hope you enjoy weird, existentialist stories about elevators.
I recently accepted a creative challenge to write a dark fantasy story in the form of a cocktail recipe. I wrote “The Hot Ghoul Summer” for all the creatures of the night who may be bored with their unlives and looking to spice things up with the right cocktail.
I am happy to report it just got published in The Chamber Magazine’s July 2023 edition.
Unable to sleep, Myrilla Nakamura passed the time staring out the glasssteel observation blister of the transport ship, idly admiring the silver rings hugging Mercury below.
Educational text flitted across her eyelinks in neon red. It was a welcome distraction from the fighter ships exploding through her memories. “Each ring is made up of millions of orbital solar arrays, which are constantly harnessing energy. This close to the sun, the arrays burn out quickly. Yet with the abundance of silicon on Mercury’s surface, hundreds more can be rapidly constructed—”
—They’re all disposable, Myrilla thought. A million burning soldiers.Just like me.
Author’s Note: The mercenary, Myrilla Nakamura, is a character that I’ve included in another story I wrote about Mercury, “The Blind Mystic,” which was published in The Vanishing Point Magazine. You can purchase it on Amazon.
“Beth lay in bed looking out the window, listening to Mr. and Mrs. Miller arguing in the house across the street. Suddenly she heard a scream and saw a spray of red splash across their curtains…”
Have you ever wondered if the people in a world like that of Altered Carbon ever downloaded into the wrong body by accident? Maybe after a few too many drinks?
An instance of, “Dude, where’s my body?”
Check out my short, 100 word story on the premise below:
BODY SHARE MICRO FICTION
“Shit. Not again.” The body Avery woke up in this time had BO that smelled like moldy onions. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the little black hairs protruding from every pore, like a forest of sweaty spider legs.
What was that phrase they taught you in college? Don’t body share while intoxicated? Next time she’d be more responsible. She’d only have one, or two drinks max before she downloaded.
Avery called Body Share tech support. She went straight to voicemail. That’s right. It was Sunday.
She rubbed her face. She did like the beard though.
NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR
Originally the story was published here on Martian Magazine’s website with non-exclusionary publishing rights (meaning I can also publish it elsewhere). However, the site unfortunately is not around anymore, hence me posting my story above. Many people started asking how to access it or were trying to see it, so I finally posted it here on my author website.
Stories From Tomorrow - Jessica Brook's Author Site 
