Tuesday, July 22, 2014

From The Top

    'Well, this is just great,' intoned a disembodied voice from the infinite blackness. 'What the hell do I do now?'

    The void that berthed that great booming voice grew in size, but that didn't make any difference. When you’re the essence of nothing floating around in a nothing of nothingness, there’s no decisive way to tell the size ratio of said nothing.

    'I guess I should make something,' the speaker thought for a milli-second. 'I know!'

    And it started.

    First came the brightness of gases forming. They gathered together in a ballet, so grand in scale that if a human had even existed to witness the event, their brain would have boiled from the sheer unimaginable grandeur.

    Slowly, at least in the cosmic sense that a million years goes by in the blink of an eye, the gasses formed together. At first they swirled around each other, like a bathtub emptying backwards (emptying normally if you’re reading this in the southern hemisphere) and then they took shape as the first primordial suns. The light they gave off was blinding in comparison to the void that had reigned before their formation.

    Next, the remaining particles, later classified by humans to be the building blocks of all things in the universe, but to the universe itself they were nothing more than the left over over bits of cosmic hot dog fillings, came together and formed the planets that would populate the galaxies from one end of the heavens to the other.

    The floating voice was happy. Now it had company. There was light for it to see, minus the fact that it didn't have eyes. It had places it could go for a nice quiet stroll, nevermind the fact that it had no feet, or legs for them to be perched on.

    'Now, lets play a game,' the voice told the expanding space. The galaxies, filled with more suns and planets then sand on all the beaches of the modern world (even including the man-made places filled with whining tourists, complaining that their weekend getaways to sun filled resorts consisted of entirely too much sand) noded in agreement and started the game of life.

    Out in first place was an unregarded solar system in the forgotten western arm of the milky way galaxy. First a proto-plasm began to bubble in the ooze that covered most of the planet. To the naked eye, it would seem nothing more than a gray spunk, spewing from pools of super heated water, bubbling forth from the cooling lava. But on a microscopic scale, the ooze was teaming with life.

    'Good start Milky Way, but be careful,' the voice chided. 'The Andromeda Galaxy is fast on your heels. I think it might already have a quadra-pedal creature roaming its surfaces.'

    And so the game of life began.

© 2014 Mark Fiske

Monday, July 21, 2014

The End Of The World… as we know it


Roger holds his breath, and begins to count in his head.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi.

BWARRRRRRRR an air raid siren blasts from hidden speakers.

Four Mississippi, five Mississippi, six Mississippi.

Roger watches a missile drop through the clouds.

Seven Mississippi, eight Mississippi, nine Mississippi.

Next to Roger, a mother screams while her child looks on uncomprehendingly.

Ten Mississi-

Everything turns white and heat.


From two hundred miles above the Earth, the blast that consumed Roger resembles nothing more than the small flame of a candle.

Other flames begin erupting all over the globe.

The Earth burned.

Eyes watch the world turn to ash through a small porthole in the International Space Station.

Those eyes belonged to two astronauts who turned to each other.

“Champaigne?” asks one.

“Da,” answers the other.

Their eyes drift back to watch an ash cloud spread across the sky below.

© 2014 Mark Fiske

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Mighty Mike

“Help!” screams a helpless victim. “I’ve been robbed! They took my purse! Police!”

Footsteps thunder down a dark ally.

“He’s getting away,” cries out the victim. “Won’t someone help me?”

With a rush of wind, a man clad in bright spandex drops in front of the helpless victim.

“Fear not, helpless victim,” exclaims spandex. “For it is I, Mighty Mike, here to help you”

Mighty Mike strikes a Mighty Pose.

“What’s your name, victim?” asks Mighty Mike.

“Pete,” says Pete. “How in Jacobs mouth did you drop from that roof?”

“Ha ha-ha,” laughs Mighty Mike. “I am a superhero, my fragile friend. Now tell me about the fiend who made off with your purse.”

“I didn’t really get a good look at him,” says Pete.

“Try,” sooths Mighty Mike’s voice, as he places a hand reassuringly on Pete’s shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll try,” says Pete. “He was a five-foot-nothing weenie with beady eyes, ears like an elephant, and thin angry lips.”

Pete shakes his head, as if clearing out the cobwebs.

“Woah,” says Pete. “Did you just use some kind-ah super-power mind jobber on me?”

“Ha, hah,” laughs Mighty Mike. “Of course I did, for I am Mighty Mike. As for the doer of evil, I’d know that description anywhere. He is none other than Bad Boss, my arch-nemesis.”

Mighty Mike slams his fist into his hand, causing a Mighty shock wave.

“Darn,” yells Mighty Mike. “Bad Boss has plagued me for years, it’s about time I teach him a Mighty lesson.”

“Well, now’s your chance, Mister Henderson,” says a voice behind Mighty Mike. “And if you could please be so kind as to stop narrating everything, that would be great.”

Mike Henderson cleared his throat and put the six inch action figures he was playing with, down on his desk. Mike swiveled in his chair, and looked at the man standing in his cubicle’s entrance. Staring back at Mike, with beady black eyes, was Edward Booth, Mike’s boss.

“How long have you been standing there?” asked Mike.

“My pachyderm-esq ears may have picked up one or two of your little adventures,” said Edward.

“I take it this means…?” questioned Mike.

“This means your little adventures are over,” said Edward. “Pack up your fortress of solis, and be out of the building within the hour, or I’ll have to call security.”

Edward turned, his lips thinner than ever, and left with a HRUMPH of indignation.

Mike picked up the figure of the old man, and began talking to it.

“I swear to you, my petrified pal,” says Mighty Mike. “Mighty Mike will avenge your stolen purse, Pete. Fear not!”

Mike tossed the figures into a box. A head poked around the cubicle’s entrance.

“Sorry about that, Mike” said an old man who resembled the figure Pete. “We're still on for Dragons & Dungeons later, right?”

Mike sighed, and placed the rest of his meager belongings into his box.

“Yeah, Pete,” said Mike. “We're still on. I’ll see you tonight.”

© 2014 Mark Fiske