About Emanations: When a Planet Was a Planet:
The book features the work of: Andrew Darlington, Michael Moorcock, Ebi Rober, Shashi Kadapa, Philip Murray-Lawson, C. E. Matthews, Elkie Riches, Dale L. Sproule, David Flynn, Gareth Jackson, Jean-Paul L. Garnier, Adam Paxman, Tim Newton Anderson, Michael Butterworth, Carter Kaplan, Horace Jeffery Hodges, Mack Hassler, Denny E. Marshall, Ana Cameron, Oz Hardwick, Darwin Holmstrom, AE Reiff, Mario Murgia, Adrian Nehard, David Flynn, Marielle Risse, Peter Dizozza, Daniel De Cullá, Bienvenido Bones Bañez, Jr., ughVitasta Raina, Richard Kostelanetz, Nobxhiro Santana (Nobuhiro Mido), Francine Perlman, Hugh Macrae Richmond, Marilyn R. Rosenberg, Don Tinsley, David Nadeau, Christopher Arabadjis, Arthur Lee talley, Tessa B. Dick, Michael Beard, & Richard Glyn Jones
Excerpt:
The Names of My Children
by Jean-Paul Garnier
The vehicle made it clear that passengers would take a back seat. It moved through the cool, wet city taking us further from the safe zone. Leanna gazed down her long nose at me, her face in the half-light became more severe than usual. She tapped a code with her forefinger into the glowing dash. It was my car but it only wanted her touch. Somewhere back in the fire surrounded mists my family waited, trusting that I would return to the shelter. The air crackled with electricity killing my hope that we would be going back any time soon.
Emergency situations like that suck firefighters within the area. In undulating waves they came to help, only to find that the available hardware wanted someone to play with. The solar radiation, the adult babies and red flag warnings had not been enough. My vehicle, which was not Leanna’s, curved through the burning spaces propelling us toward the great concrete bunkers. Research into adaptive events had killed at least thirteen people so far. The numbers would no doubt rise. But Leanna continued to smile as though a plan of hers was working out nicely. My family would disagree.
“You always fail me. Your car isn’t much better. Can’t you see how the flames lick at the heavens? The city is yours, too bad there will be little left in the end. I could be yours but you cower under that suit of yours. Even the firemen have learned that the signal enters through the skin. Damn civilians. Ate it up just like the commercials told you to. You know they are testing you, yet here you are with me, infinitely wiser than you. Keeping you safe even as we flee your dreams.”
Leanna, condescending as always. Took from me as she pleased. Sirens pierced through the smoke. A hundred houses burned all along what were once my streets. My suit tightened further. Skin crawled with anticipation knowing the harm and wanting it badly. Leanna looked towards me smiling, teeth glowing orange. She matched the sky in most regards but she wasn’t falling for it. She navigated the flames as though they were imaginary. Perhaps they were but I could still hear screams matching the volume of the moving sirens.
From the window I saw a man tearing at his suit. The buckles changed position as he clawed at them. The colors changed until he could not tell his own body from the surrounding wreckage. His fingers bled as he tried to remove the asphalt from the burning road circling his feet. Comical dances completed the horror music that dragged through the suburban night. Police fired warning shots straight up. Pop, pop, pop. They were trying to time the shots with the rest of the music. The dancing man falls to ashes. Leanna’s smile grows in intensity. They flash from orange into rainbows or terror, but it is not her terror, she is feeding on the ruptured waves of the satellite. She didn’t need a suit, her mind had undone the frequencies prior to my abduction.
As when old men throw yet another log onto the fire the sparks spiral into the whirling void. The fire sings like an out of tune children’s choir. The parents sit with pleased looks on their faces as they endure the cacophony. My children have become tinder by now. Leanna sings a poisonous lullaby with touches of triumph. She believes she has freed me from the shackles of modernity. While it isn’t true I am elated by the ever tightening suit. They knew to make our downfall entertaining but who knew it could be this rapturous. I squirmed in my seat to the rhythm of the screams. Pop, scream, pop, pop, scream. Leanna writhed in gross pleasure knowing I couldn’t hold out much longer.
Amazon | International Authors
About International Authors:
A consortium of writers, artists, architects, filmmakers and critics, International Authors publishes work of outstanding literary merit. Dedicated to the advancement of an international culture in literature, primarily in English, the group seeks new members with an enthusiasm for creating unique artistic expressions.
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