Tag: Fiction
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Michael Crichton – What Makes Great SciFi – The Future
A brief look at Michael Crichton’s approach to storytelling. Followed up by an exploration of what makes a great yarn. Let me know what you think! The music used in this video is my own. The intro entirely so. The second with my jam band and some borrowing from Bach Preludes. I also make music!…
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The Cottage – Narrations
A death in the family takes Jim Cleary from Boston to Appalachia. There amid the grey and green Kentucky hills sits the Cottage his great-grandfather built. The rustic calm gives little hint of what lies beneath the stars that hang so silent, cold, and bright. If you prefer reading: https://thefractaljournal.com/2023/01/31/the-cottage-2019-story-excerpt/ Note: This narration contains music.…
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Plinth – A Night Drive Story – Creepypasta Original
Hey, everybody sorry for the huge lag in uploads. Life is life as the Laibach song goes. My schedule is all topsy turvy, night is day, day is night, and I’m still in a bloody hotel. Whinging aside I’m rather happy to bring you a story I wrote earlier this morning. Here’s the story via…
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The Cottage – Part Twenty Eight – (Short Story)
Jim was stuck again by the shift in atmosphere. With all these bodies luxuriating by the firelight it was indeed downright homey. The warmth was pleasant. But it was also naseuting. Jim did not trust these fine feelings. He did not want comradarie with these soft strangers. “I’ve heard you call these things the El…
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The Cottage – Part Twenty Two – (Short Story)
The first sensation was confusion. The second was thirst. Jim had never been that thirsty. He was ungainly on his feet and had to grip the closet door to keep from rejoining the floor. He swung it open and found everything normal. There were no cosmic abysses, orbs, or goblin swarms. There was nothing but…
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The Cottage – Part Twenty One – (Short Story)
He awoke in a desert. There was nothing about save for countless dunes that undulated like waves in every direction. The reddish sand was cold. In fact everything was cold despite the brightest sun that Jim had ever beheld. It was well nigh white in luminosity. So ferocious was its radiance that he was forced…
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The Cottage – Part Nineteen – (Short Story)
There it was balanced just so on the couch’s arm. Everything was the same. Manila colored, red lettered, and all – it was Hant’s letter. The very correspondence he’d so recently consigned to the fire. “No.” He said rising to his feet and reeling. “No, no, no, no , no….” ‘They drugged me.’ ‘Keep it…
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The Cottage – Part Eighteen – (Short Story)
Jim did not see. His return to the cottage was not accompanied by a deepend reverence. Quite the opposite, his recklessness increased. “This is all bullshit.” He said as he tossed his uncle’s letter into the fire. Whenever he heard the chirping he’d run out like a wildman, Mossberg in hand, and fire wildly at…
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The Cottage – Part Twelve – (Short Story)
Why must they be so cryptic? There was too much room for interpretation. Nothing fell into place. Or rather the places that it fell were too fantastic to be seriously entertained. Maybe he should read after all. But what would he read? More cryptic hints at the illimitable… Towards what end? He watched the…
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The Cottage – Part Ten – (Short Story)
Afternoon found him stiff limbed and groggy. Jim reengaged the safety and set the twelve gauge gingerly on the wood panel floor. It was stupid to sleep with a loaded and ready weapon. It hurt a bit. He could stand to be a fool but not an all-out idiot. For better or for worse, the…